


A Witcher's Destiny

by Dragon_Dweller



Series: A Witcher and His Wife [1]
Category: The Witcher (Netflix series), The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Bard - Freeform, Chaos, Character Death, Child Loss, Complete, Dark Past, Death, Destiny, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Geralt of Rivia - Freeform, Good and Evil, Hidden Talents, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by The Witcher, Kikimora - Freeform, Mages, Magic, Magic Revealed, Magicians, Mentioned Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Mentions of Geralt and Yennefer, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage, Monster - Freeform, Monsters, Mutant Powers, Nilfgaard, Original Character Death(s), Other, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Past Relationship(s), Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Sir Geralt of Rivia, Slow-ish burn, Surprises, Temporary Character Death, The Continent, The Witcher - Freeform, Twins, Witches, Wizards, Writer liberties, anguish, netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 72,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21962179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Dweller/pseuds/Dragon_Dweller
Summary: Geralt of Rivia never put much stalk in Destiny, even though Destiny always has something in it for the Witcher, whether the White Wolf liked it or not..but he may learn to in time.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Luna, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Witcher and His Wife [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600843
Comments: 48
Kudos: 391





	1. Kikimora Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Netflix series, with bits and pieces of the books and game. It happens after the fall out with Yennifer and before he finds Ciri. More than likely taking some liberties here, but, I hope you like it all the same.

Geralt heard the screech as it reached him on the snowy breeze, Roach whinnied and stomped a hoof to the icy ground, growing restless. The Witcher scanned the trees around him, another screech filling the air, frowning, Geralt swung down off Roach, pulling one of his swords and letting his ears twitch to any sound that came to him. A new sound reached him this time, a scream, a human one. Swinging his head in its direction, Geralt took off running, dodging branches and jumping a fallen tree, all his senses on high. He slid to a halt seeing a Kikimore hovering above a girl laying in the dirty snow and leaves, he could see a wound to her side.

“Fuck.” Geralt cursed, pressing his lips together. “Hey!” he yelled to the blind creature, uncorking a small bottle and downing it, his golden eyes turning pitch black. “That's right you ugly bastard, come and get me.” he taunted it.

The Kikimore screeched again and started running at Geralt full tilt, acid spit dripping from his mouth as it worked up a frenzy. The Witcher stood his ground, his hands tightening around the hilt of his sword, letting out a single breath, Geralt moved to the side as the monster leapt at him and with a single experienced swing cut its head off. The Kikimore slid across the ground a lifeless lump at Geralt's feet. Growling, He drove his sword through the creature's heart for good measure. Staking his sword into the ground, Geralt made his way towards the girl's body, kneeling beside her and frowning, her hair was whiter than his own, even with the dirt tinged in it.

“Hey.” He called to her, brushing her hair from her face. “Girl, can you hear me?” he called again, turning her head, gently. Frowning when she didn't wake, but he could feel her breathing faintly against his hand. “At least you're alive...for now.” he said, checking her wound.

“Roach!” Geralt yelled over his shoulder, carefully picking the girl up in into his arms.

The horse approached, edging around the dead creature, and over to Geralt, who lifted the girl onto Roach's back and swung into the saddle behind her, kicking the horse's side and swinging him around with the reins, Geralt bent down to pick up his sword as they went by, kicking Roach again, they rode fast towards the village the Witcher had just left, holding the girl tight against him and willing her to live long enough for them to make it to a healer.

“Hey, you! Come here!” Geralt barked at the first person in the village he saw. “Where's the healer?” He growled at them. 

“No healer here, Witcher.” the man answered. “The last one we had died when he went foraging for herbs in the woods last month.”

“Fuck.” he growled. “Do you know this girl?”

“No, I don't.” The man shook his head, frowning at the still unconscious girl.

“Where's the nearest healer, do you know?”

“Not for at least a hundred miles, I'd say.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes. “I'll have to help her myself. Where's your inn, then?”

The man pointed to the shabby three story building at the end of the lane, and moved on before the Witcher could ask him any more questions. Geralt could already feel the girl starting to shake from the poison in her veins as he made it to the inn and slid off Roach with her. He kicked open the inn door, startling the patrons inside as he did.

“I need a room.” Geralt yelled. “Now, before this girl dies!”

“You'll pay before you do anything here, Witcher.” the Inn master barked over the ale counter.

“If I put this girl down before I have a room in this inn, it will be to kill you, Innkeeper.” He threatened the man, his face growing harder by the moment. “I'll pay you double, so give me a room now.”

The Inn keeper stood his ground a moment longer, before breaking and moving around the counter and up the stairs to one of the empty rooms. “Coin.” he snapped, as he moved out of the door way.

Geralt's head snapped to the keeper, a murderous look inches from his own sallow face. Swallowing, the inn keeper took two big steps back. Geralt carried the girl into the room and carefully laid her down on the drab bed.

“It's cold.” she murmured, shivering, her hands twisting the quilt beneath her.

“It'll be alright.” Geralt answered, rounding the bed to the fire place and tossing a few more logs into the fire, then returned to the innkeeper, who hovered at the door. “I'll need a few more logs for the fire and some herbs.” he told him, handing the innkeeper a large coin purse. “That should be enough for it all, and make it quick, she's close to death.”

Closing the door in the man's face, Geralt made his way back to the girl, who stirred restlessly. “It's alright.” Geralt assured her, brushing her hair out of her face. “Just hang in there.”

Moving to her wound, Geralt moved her shirt out of the way and winced, the wound itself wasn't deep, but the poison was setting in deeper, most likely already in her blood. “Fuck.” he sighed, sitting back. “This is beyond my healing capabilities. But, if I can slow it down enough, we might be able to reach another healer.” he said, not willing to give up just yet.

A pounding at the door brought Geralt back from his thoughts, getting up Geralt opened the door and took the things from the innkeeper and kicked the door shut again. He dropped the wood by the fire and took the herbs to the bed side table, fumbling through the herbs til he found what he was looking for and crushed it up with his fingers, pressing into the wound on the girl's side. The girl groaned, tensing and grabbing at Geralt's wrist, nails digging into his skin. He winced, but ignored her nails, focused on what he was doing. He shredded more herbs, getting up and grabbing a ewer of water and put it on to boil. He stood staring out the foggy window into the yard below, where he could see Roach drinking from the water trough, unbothered. The girl stirred more on the bed, her breathing become heavy as she tried to sit up.

“Hey now, relax.” Geralt called to her, turning towards her. “You're alright now, but you need to rest, or you'll make the poison travel quicker.” he told her, easing her back against the pillow. “I'm Geralt.” He offered, when she opened her eyes and looked at him.

She grimaced in pain, and nodded. “Luna.” she choked out.

“I'd say pleasure to meet you, Luna. But, under the circumstance.” Geralt said, getting up to retrieve the boiling water and dropping the herbs he mixed together into it to brew. “I know little, but hopefully, enough to slow the poison from killing you, long enough then, to find a healer that can cure you. But until then, I need you to rest.” He pulled a chair up beside the bed, leaning his elbows against his knees.

Luna took a deep breath, “Keep me alive long enough...” she gulped and winced at a pain. “And one will find us..” she mumbled, shivering.

Geralt smiled, faintly, humoring her clear sick ramblings. He let the herbs steep until the brew was warm enough to sip and brought the cup to her, he sat her up against him and help her sip the tea, she shook so much by now that Geralt could feel his own teeth vibrate. Having her finish the tea and setting the empty cup on the night stand, he picked her up easily enough and long enough to pull back the quilt and sheets, then laid her back down and covered her carefully up. Dropping a few more logs into the fire, Geralt went back to the chair, sat down and rested his feet on the edge of the bed frame. He watched her sleep, and mumble in her sleep for a while, willing himself to sleep, but found none found him. Sighing, his head dropped back and he stared at the ceiling, a million things running through his mind.

“Why's it so cold...” Luna mewled.

He looked over at her, his head falling to the side. “Fuck.” Groaning, he leaned forward and pulled off his boots and shirt, before pulling up the blankets and carefully rolling her onto her good side, Geralt cocooned her against his body, wrapping himself around her and sharing his body heat with her, careful of her wound. He felt her shaking subside some and felt himself relax at it. He looked at the back of her head, feeling her cool hand rest on his, he moved his over hers, patting it gently and moved it back where it was.

Geralt hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until he felt the bed shift and a cry of pain. Sitting up himself, he looked at the girl as she sat up looking at her injured side. “Are you alright?” he asked, frowning concerned.

“Maybe.” she groaned, then laid back down on her back.

“You still cold?” he asked, looking down at her.

“Like I'm naked in the fucking snow.” She answered. “Though, I think snow is more warming than I am.” she added.

Geralt chuckled, resting back against the headboard, he looked down as she rested her forehead against his side and shook his head seeing she was out like a light again. He found himself waking up from a peaceful sleep yet again, aware he didn't feel the girl's weight against him anymore. Sitting up, he found her asleep on the other edge of the bed, figuring she moved closer to the fire for warmth, he got up and went down to the bar for something to drink and brought it back up with him. Sitting in the chair again, he slowly drank his ale, her moving caught his attention, she was stirring and whimpering in her sleep, speaking in a strange language. He'd just set his cup down to wake her when she turned on her back with a gasp, eyes flying open.

“Have nightmares often?” he asked, when she seemed calm again.

“Three.” she panted. “Only three nightmares.”

“Just three?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow. “What are they?”

“It's dark, you can't even see your hand pressed to your face, kind of dark.” she said after a moment. “There's a sound, so high pitched its....quiet. There's something in it...with me. Sometimes I get with in touching distance of it before the pain of the sound wakes me up, other times the dream barely begins before it's too much.”

“The others?”

“I'm drowning...again. Like when my parents died, we were traveling home after visiting my mum's sister, when the carriage over turned as we were traveling over a river, my parents drowned and I would have too, if my twin brother hadn't known how to swim. I still drown in the dream until the rational part of my brain remembers I can swim now and I swim to the surface and wake up.” she explained.

“And the last one?”

She laid there staring up at the ceiling, quiet as a mouse for a while. “You talk a lot...in your sleep.” she said, turning her head to look at him.

“And you fall asleep quicker than the dead.” he countered.

She laughed. “Aye, usually being asleep is better than being awake, so I try to get there as quickly as possible. You, on the other hand, have a hard time sleeping.”

“That I do, but I haven't seemingly had that issue since I met you.” he remarked.

“My apologies, I usually have an easier time controlling myself.” she replied. “But, being sick makes things harder to control.”

“What are you talking about?” Geralt frowned at her.

She extended her hand with a snap and a breeze flew past him, ruffling his hair and making him blink.

“You're a witch...” he whispered.

“No.” she shook her head. “But, very capable of magic.”

“Can you heal yourself?” he asked, straightening up.

“No, I don't know that kind of magic.” she answered.

Geralt groaned. “You said, I talk a lot in my sleep.” he said, changing the subject. “Is that why you moved away from me?”

“No. While, you do call to several women in your sleep. That's not what I was talking about. Touching you not only did it help you fall asleep, I could see what you were dreaming. After a while, it seemed your dreams were becoming more...personal...so I moved away from you, so I wouldn't spy on them. They're none of my business, just because I'm currently too sick to stop from seeing them.” she explained to him.

“Well, There's that.” Geralt groaned. “If you're well enough, we can ride to the next town for a healer.”

“No need.” Luna answered, turning her head to look at the door. “He's already here.”

“Who...what?” Geralt growled, hearing the pounding feet coming up the stairs. He looked around and cursed himself for forgetting his weapons on Roach.

The door banged open and a tall man stood in it, frantic. He looked from Geralt, then to Luna sitting up in bed, holding her side. “Oh, thank the gods, Luna.” he panted, a look of relief washing over him as he strode over to her, bending over her and looking over her wound. “I felt you close to death and came as fast as I could.” he assured her, brushing his fingers through her hair and pressing his forehead to hers.

“I'm alright, Marcus.” Luna whispered, smiling softly at him. “He saved me.” she said, motioning to Geralt.

Marcus's eyes finally saw Geralt and anger flared into them. “You!” he barked, standing up.

“You know him?” Luna frowned between the two men.

“No.” Geralt growled.

“Yes, I know the Witcher.” Marcus growled. “I know him well.”

“How?” Geralt and Luna asked at the same time.

“Did he touch you!?” Marcus demanded of Luna.

“Yes, when he did what healing he could, to save me.” she answered, confused.

“Anything more?” he hissed, his eyes darkening with growing rage.

“He kept me warm, but nothing beyond that.” Luna answered, sitting up. “What's wrong?”

“Are you sure of it?” Marcus pressed her.

“I would never force myself on a woman.” Geralt growled, offended at the accusation. “Especially, a sick one.”

“He was quite honorable, Marcus, so tell me what's the issue?” Luna demanded, looking up at him.

“Later.” He growled, sweeping his cloak off and wrapping it around her. “I need to get you home and safely away from this Witcher.”

“Marcus.” Luna growled back at him, dropping off into the language Geralt heard her whimper in her sleep.

“Don't become stubborn now, Luna.” he barked.

“I've been stubborn my whole life, as you've always lovely tease me about.” She shot back. “So, I will be so now, and until you fucking tell me why you're so strung up.”

“He's a Witcher.” 

“And I'm sick! Not blind! I know what he is and I've seen you around another Witcher, so I highly doubt its that.”

Marcus fumed in silence for several moments before answering her in the same language she'd spoken in. Geralt watched with growing anger and confusion of his own, watching them argue in whatever language it was, before he couldn't stand it anymore.

“Would you speak normally!” he barked.

Luna blinked recalling herself. “I'm sorry, it's..it's the twin language. It's habit.”

“Twin language?” he repeated, narrowing his eyes.

“All twins have a language of their own.” Marcus answered. “I learned it while I raised Luna and her twin brother after their parents died.”

“Much to Nikki's anger.” Luna laughed.

“Well, it was the only way I could get the two of you to talk to me over the dinner table.” Marcus countered, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Touche. But, you didn't answer the question.”

“Not here, Luna.” Marcus whispered. “Let me get you home and well again, then I will explain everything to you.”

“I think you owe me an answer just as much as her.” Geralt barked.

“I owe you nothing, Geralt of Rivia.”

“You know his name?” Luna asked, tilting her head at him.

“Everyo...”

“Don't back track me, Marcus. Or I'll throw up in your boots.” she warned him.

Marcus growled and sat down beside her, taking her hand into his hand. “You and he are destine for each other.” he told her, looking her in the eyes.

“What?” Luna frowned, feeling what energy she had start to drain.

“What do you mean we're destine for each other?” Geralt growled.

“What were the chances of a Kikimore attacking you so close to a human settlement, a human settlement this particular Witcher is leaving?” Marcus asked.

“Fuck, if I know.” Luna answered.

“Slim.” Geralt answered, his eyes narrowing at Marcus. “How did you know it was a Kikimore that attacked her?”

“Look at her!” Marcus barked at the Witcher. “The type of wound on her side, the shakes and other symptoms she has, I might not be some great Witcher as Geralt of Rivia, but I know how to identify a Kikimore attack.”

Geralt and Marcus shot daggers into each other as they held each other's gazes. Luna sat up against the headboard, feeling the shakes coming back and all energy leaving her as it swirled around her mind, she could feel her stomach rising to a pitch, before she leaned sideways and puked bile all over the rough wood floor.

“Luna.” Marcus and Geralt both called with a start.

“I need to get her home.” Marcus panted, throwing the blankets from her feet back and picking her up in his arms.

“Luna.” Geralt panted, watching Marcus carry her to the door.

“Geralt.” she whimpered, before Marcus carried her out of the room and down the stairs to the waiting carriage.

Geralt watched from the window above as Marcus carefully put her into the carriage, their eyes meeting for a split moment, before she was inside and Marcus in with her. He stood there watching the carriage drive away out of sight.

“Fuck.” he groaned, pulling on his shirt and shoes, he charged down the stairs.

“You owe, Witcher!” The Innkeeper called to him.

“I owe you fuck all!” he barked, going out the door and swinging up into Roach's saddle to go after them.


	2. The Family Home

“What were you talking about, Marcus?” Luna panted, gripping his hand. “I need to know what you meant.”

Marcus patted Luna's sweaty cheek as her head rested on his shoulder. “I promised your parents.” he told her, softly. “Just after you and your brother were born, a Sage came to your parents to tell them of your destiny. A destiny that you would have great power of magic, but it's fullness wouldn't be unlocked from inside of you, until you met and wed your destiny, the White Wolf of Rivia.” He explained to her. “At the time we knew nothing about the Witcher Geralt of Rivia. Your father sent far and wide for this White Wolf of Rivia, but the only common thing uttered back was the Witcher Geralt, who is of Rivia and they call the White Wolf for his hair and Witcher skills. When your parents learned who, and what, he is, they did everything they could to keep the two of you apart. Until now.”

Luna chuckled, “What's the worry this destiny isn't supposed to happen until we marry and that's not going to happen.”

“My dear girl, a man and woman are not married until they sleep together.” he smiled down at her.

“Well, that sure didn't happen either, Marcus, and very likely won't.” she told him. “He's cute, but, not that cute.”

“The fact you find him even that, worries me.” Marcus frowned, put off.

“Oh, come on.” Luna laughed, then regretted it as her side throbbed. “Even if I wasn't dying and blind, he'd be cute. He probably is to a great many...well, a great many women do find him more than cute. So, I doubt he feels anything for me.” she assured him. “He's got a love, either way, a girl named Yennifer.”

“Good, may she make him ever so happy.” Marcus said, smiling down at her, but felt the knot in his stomach relieve greatly. “We'll have you home soon, and feeling all the better. What were you doing out this far anyway? Especially some where so close to a creature that could attack you.”

“Well, I didn't plan it.” she sounded, hurt, but Marcus knew her better. “I didn't sense it when I arrived there, or I wouldn't have stopped.” she added, more seriously.

“But you did stop.” Marcus pointed out. “Why?”

Luna sighed, wrapping her arms around his. “I've been having migraines again.” she whispered. “I left for a walk,”

“A long walk from home.” he pointed out again.

“Yes, yes I know.” Luna groaned. “But, You know how the migraines get. So, I kept walking and I stopped there because the pain seemed to lessen, so I was taking it in before I turned back. But, all of a sudden I felt drawn in by something and the next thing I knew, the Witcher was carrying me into the inn and threatening to kill the innkeeper if he didn't give him a room to use, so he could save me.”

Marcus frowned down at her, his brow drawing together. “Felt what drawing you in, Luna?”

“I don't know. The moment I closed my eyes to see what it was, everything went black.”

“Does it still dog you?” he asked, his concern growing again. 

“I don't think so. I haven't felt anything but chills and the pain since the wound.”

Marcus nodded, troubled. “It'll be alright now, my little one.” he whispered to her. “We're home now.”

The carriage rolled over a small bridge and into the heavy walls of a great manor, it stopped at the doors which were thrown open by the servants. Marcus took Luna from the carriage and carried her inside.

“Ready her chambers, Mary-Ella.” He called to one of the servants. “Emmon, go into my study and fetch all my herbs and bring them there, I want clean bandages, water and warm tea, as well.” he ordered, carrying Luna up to her room.

Laying her down, Marcus carefully stripped her shirt away from her side and surveyed the wound properly. “Suppose the Witcher wasn't entirely useless.” he muttered to himself, taking a bandage and dipping it into the water to wash the blood, puss and muck from the wound. “Make a fire, as hot as you can get it.” he told the maid, tossing the filthy bandage to the floor. “It'll be alright, Luna.” He kept whispering to her.

Marcus was in a flurry of herbs and murmured enchants, Luna laid chilled and fevered, withering in pain and delirium, doing the very last thing Marcus wanted her too, calling out for not only her brother, Nikki, but Geralt as well. Finishing all he could, Marcus lifted the cup to her lips and made her drink the tea mixed with herbs to help her sleep and be in less pain.

“You'll live, my little one.” he whispered, brushing her damp hair from her sweaty face.

He looked out the windows to the setting sun and felt more exhausted than he had in years. Turning on his heels, he made it to the door before looking back to her one more time, to reassure himself she was still there, still breathing and safe, before opening the door and going down to the kitchen.

“Is she alright, my lord?” Mary-Ella asked, setting some supper down in front of him.

“Thankfully, yes.” He nodded, picking up his spoon.

“Thank God and you, sir.” she sighed, relieved. “I remember when she was just a wee thing, when her and her brother first came here.” she whispered, softly.

“So do I.” Marcus smiled, thinking back to that time. “She was the first one of them to talk to me. Nicolas was so furious with her when she started teaching me their little language. But, I was just finally so happy to have something in common with them, other than their parents and their deaths. It took Nikki a while longer, but he started to trust me, in time, like Luna did.” he sniffled. “They're so much like my own children. Losing Nicolas was a painful blow, but if I was to lose Luna as well, I don't know what reason I would have left in this world.”

“Why did they come here, sir?” Mary-Ella finally asked. “and not to their Aunt Veri?”

“Imik and Nudha made me their Godfather, they felt I would understand the twins better than Nudha's family. Especially since the gift skipped Veri, they feared that she and her family would treat the twins differently, and so they did when they visited them, like they were going to go off at any moment.” He frowned, remembering the stories Imik told him. “I was Imik's father's adviser for several years, we became quite close, so when his father died, Imik kept me on as an adviser and we became very good friends ourselves.” he explained, things he hadn't thought about in years, it had become a sore spot in his heart to talk about his long lost friends.

“Well, at least she's safer here with you, sir.” Mary-Ella told him, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I doubt her aunt could have done for her what you have.” she smiled at him, kindly.

“Thank you, Mary-Ella.” He forced a smile back. “Will you look in on her, I need to rest after all the energy I expended.” he asked, finishing off his supper.

“Of course, would you like me to bring her something, if she should wake and be hungry?” she asked, picking up his bowel and taking it to the sink.

“A light broth, if she can manage it.” Marcus told her, standing. “If anything should turn with her, call for me instantly, do not waste time.” he explained to her. “With Kikimore poison, every moment is important. I'll look in on her in the morning, by then a good amount of the poison should have passed.”

“I will, sir. I promise.” she reassured him.

Smiling softly at her and bowing his head in thanks, Marcus went up, checking in on Luna one last time before going to his room to rest. Thankfully, nothing happened to Luna in the night for Marcus to be called, relieving him even more when he woke mid-morning the next day. He had just risen and pulled on his robes, when he heard the raised voices and the quick patter of feet in the hall before Emmon knocked and opened his chamber door.

“Is it Luna?” he asked, worry surging through him, anew.

“No, sir. She hasn't woken since yesterday.” He assured his master. “There's a man here, a Witcher, that demands to see her.”

“The gull of that damned mutant.” Marcus growled, tying his robes and marching into the hall. “The nerve to follow me to my home alone, but then to force himself inside and demand to see my goddaughter!” he roared, flying down the stairs in a rage.

“You are to leave here, Witcher!” he barked at Geralt as he swept into the entryway. “Now!”

“I am not leaving without making sure she's alright!” Geralt yelled, pointing up the stairway Marcus came down from.

“We owe you nothing of the sort, and nor does she!” Marcus growled. “Now leave, you dog!”

“Why!?” Geralt roared, clenching his fists. “So, you can lock her up here and keep her to yourself!?”

“She is a daughter to me, you piece of shit Witcher!” Marcus cursed him, magic gathering at his hands. “Something you will never fucking understand.”

“The dead can hear you two beasts arguing in hell.” Luna's voice called from the stairs.

“Luna, what are you doing?” Marcus demanded, seeing her gripping the banister for support. “You need to get back to bed. Mary-Ella, take her back to her room before she loses herself.” he called to the maid.

“Leave off, Mary. I'll manage.” Luna sighed, shaking her off.

“Luna...” Geralt started forward.

“No farther!” Marcus warned.

“I am not leaving, unless she tells me too.” Geralt growled, drawing himself to his full height.

“She is in no...”

“Marcus, stop this.” Luna panted, moving down a few steps.

“Luna.” he called, moving closer to her, but stopped when she waved him off.

“This is still one of my family's homes, Marcus.” she told him in a steady voice. “He can be here, if he wants it.”

“I can't allow this, Luna. I promised your parents.” He tried to reason with her.

“Promised her parents what?” Geralt demanded, looking between the two.

“To protect her from you!” he snapped.

“Why?”

“It's none of your business.”

Luna sighed, closing her eyes. “Because apparently, I am a lot stronger than I already am.”

“Luna.” Marcus whispered, pleadingly.

“But,” she looked Marcus in the eyes for a moment before meeting Geralt's golden ones. “I can not unlock the rest of it until I wed the White Wolf of Rivia.” she confessed.

Geralt's eyes grew large as it dawned on him. “Fuck.”

“Yes, Witcher.” Marcus, frowned at him. “You.”

“Hmm.” Geralt groaned, pressing his lips together and starting to pace.

Luna slowly lowered herself to the steps and rested her back against the cool stone; the chills had passed, but the fire from the fever felt like an inferno in her bones. “I'm fine, Marcus. Stop fussing over me like a grandmother.” she frowned, as he cupped her face in his hands.

“I will, when this fever breaks.” he told her, still fussing. “You can still die from this you know.”

“And part of me really doesn't care.” She told him, looking him in the eyes.

“You don't mean that.” Marcus scolded her.

Luna rolled her head out of his hands and raised an eyebrow at him.

“That's it! Enough of your high and mighty orders, little one.” Marcus declared, moving to pick her up. “You're going back to bed and if you try and leave it again, I'll seal your door.”

“Ah! Leave off, old man!” She protested, swatting his hands away. “I got down here, I can get back up there.”

“I doubt it.”

“Accepted.” she told him, before promptly throwing up on him.

“Aww.” Marcus grimaced, going pale himself.

“Come, Sir and clean up.” Mary-Ella said, resting her hand lightly on his elbow.

“I have to...”

“I'll make sure she gets back to bed.” Geralt interrupted.

“I'm...”

“He kills monsters for a living, Marcus. If he can't deal with one sick and pukey woman, then he needs a better day job.” Luna interjected, pulling herself to wobbly feet. “Go, or I'll do it again, higher up.” she threatened, heartlessly.

Marcus narrowed his eyes at her, then looked at Geralt. “If you do anything to her, I'll have you killed.” he said, before allowing Mary-Ella to lead him away.

“Come, Geralt. There's two flights of stairs to ascend.” she called, starting to carefully make her way up the steps.

“Would you rather I carry you?” Geralt asked, close behind her in case she fell.

“Am I doing that bad from your vantage point?” Luna called over her shoulder.

“No, not that I can see.” he answered, looking her over, just to make sure.

“Then, I'll keep walking myself, thanks. I've had enough of people carrying me in the least few days.” she answered, stopping on the first landing to catch her breath. “How did you find me?” she asked, looking up at him, she hadn't realized he was so tall until that moment.

“I followed the carriage he took you away in.” he answered, leaning his shoulder against the wall.

“Why?” She asked. “To find out what he meant, I suppose.”

“Because I was concerned.” Geralt told her. “And I was curious.” he added.

“A Witcher worried about some stupid girl he met in the woods, and the shock of both their lives when they find out there's a supposed destiny between them.” she scoffed, turning to start her way up the second set of stairs.

“Do you not believe in Destiny?” he asked, watching her back.

“No.” She answered. “Destiny had it, my parents were supposed to have three kids. My mother couldn't have any more kids after my brother and I. Destiny said my brother was supposed to be running the family estates, and instead he's disappeared, Marcus thinks he's dead.”

“You don't think he's dead?” Geralt asked, tilting his head to see the side of her face.

She stopped mid stair and turned to him. “Our parents died when we were eight. When we were ten, my brother broke his arm falling out of a tree, I was three towns away visiting my Aunt, I felt it. I felt his arm break like it was my own arm.” She told him. “You think something as simple as sharing the pain of a broken arm would be so much more important to our bound, that I wouldn't feel his death, however he died?” She asked him, searching his eyes for an answer. “Because I don't.”

“What happened to him?” He asked, frowning at her.

Sighing, Luna turned her back to him and continued up the remaining stairs and down the hall to her bedchamber, leaving it open for Geralt to enter when he made it to her, having fallen slightly behind in the hall. “He enjoyed hunting.” she said, sitting heavily on her bed. “Like my father, from what little of him I remember.”

Geralt nodded, quietly, taking a seat in front of the fire in her room.

“He would go hunting at the same time, every year, to the same place, consistently. A few years back, like always, he went off for his week long hunting trip, said good bye to him in the courtyard. I could feel him the whole time, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But, a little over three days after he had left...” she paused, biting her lip. “I stopped feeling him. Like he was never here at all. I told Marcus and he sent Emmon to where he would be going, where he should have been. But he wasn't there. Not his camp, his things...not even his horse.”

“What did Marcus do then?” He asked, looking at her, seeing the tears drip from her face.

“He and several others spent weeks searching the area where he would have been, the road he should have taken, or could have taken, any other places he could have gone; hoping to find some trace of him, but after a year and none, not even a whisper in the trees. They all figured he'd met some kind of end, dragged off by a monster, fell off a cliff or he'd just simply run away. But, if he had run, he wouldn't have left without me, or without saying something to me.”

“Was he acting strangely before he left?”

“No, his normal happy and cynical self.” She told him. “It's hard to hide things, even your darkest secret from someone you've shared a womb with for seven months.” she sniffled, wiping her nose on the side of her arm.

Sighing, Geralt got up and sat beside her on the bed, pressing his lips together, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side, brushing his fingers through her hair as her head rested on his shoulder, and wiped away the wetness from her flushed cheek.

“If he's still alive, out there...where ever...I'm sure you'll be the one to find him, Luna.” He whispered into her hair. “And for what it's worth, I don't believe in destiny either.” he added, trying to make her laugh, which he managed to a little bit.

“Thanks, Geralt.” She said, tilting her head back to look at him. “For finding me in the woods, saving me and all that.”

“You're welcome.” He smiled at her, feeling the stiffness in his face as he did from the little he did smile.

They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them crackling; Geralt lifted his hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, his thumb and forefinger still resting on her chin as if the air between them slowly vanished, moving them closer to each other with every passing second...

“No!” Marcus's voice yelled, increasing in volume in their ears until it was ear splitting and they moved apart. “What are you doing!” he barked, standing in the open doorway, his eyes the size of plates and looking as if he'd seen hell rise before him.

Geralt instinctively moved away from Luna.

“Well, if I'd thrown up just a bit more on you, then I think we'd have kissed.” Luna joked, but the seriousness in her voice didn't help the look on Marcus's face. “Mary-Ella, why don't you find Geralt something to eat and a room.” she called to the maid she knew was in the hallway behind her Godfather. “That's if the Witcher wishes to stay.” she added, looking over at him.

“I wouldn't mind a good meal,” Geralt answered looking at her. “Or a soft bed for the night.” he added, meeting Marcus's eyes.

“Wonderful, Mary-Ella will show you everything you'll want and need.” she smiled at him and nodded to the maid. “Thank you, Mary.”

“You're welcome, Mistress.” Mary-Ella nodded, bowing to her.

“Are you mad?” Marcus asked, when Geralt and the maid disappeared. “It has to be your fever. The rational girl I helped raise would never be so silly as to entertain a Witcher.”

“My mother didn't raise a rude woman, and neither did you, Marcus.” Luna answered, sighing. “Beside, you entertained a Witcher in the house before.” she added.

“I fed him and he camped in the courtyard.” Marcus corrected.

“Witcher or No. Destiny or No, Marcus. He saved my life. That deserves a good meal and bed.” Luna reasoned with him, her lower lip puffing out just a bit, for good measure.

Sighing heavily and pressing his lips hard together, Marcus sat beside her and started fussing with her bandage, to check her wound. “I want you to take a few more herbs and a bit of tea and broth, before taking another rest. You need all you can get.” he told her, softly.

“Very well, Marcus.” she sighed, humoring him.

Marcus smiled at her and kissing her forehead before going about to brew the herbs, then went down to retrieve her some tea and broth. Making sure the herbs took affect and she managed down all the tea and broth, Marcus covered her up and opened the window to let in the cool fresh air, before leaving her room, he looked down both ends of the hall before pulling a key from his robes and locking Luna's chamber door, he held his hand over the lock and uttered a spell for good measure before repairing to his study.


	3. Painful Revelations

“Enjoying your meal, Witcher?” Marcus asked, coming into the kitchen for his supper and finding Geralt there with his own.

“Quite.” He smirked, lifting his spoon to the wizard.

Frowning, Marcus sat down across from Geralt, both staring each other down over their bowls, the chill in the room from their dislike of each other could have clouded the windows. Mary-Ella looked between the two of them, set the ale mug between them and decided she didn't want to be in the room when they finally decided to try and kill each other; bad enough she'd have to clean up the mess after.

“I've decided,” Geralt announced, breaking the silence. “I'm going to stay, until I know for certain Luna is better.” he told Marcus, pushing aside his supper bowl.

“I've been taking care of that girl before you ever came to this region.” Marcus answered, forgetting his own food. “I don't need you hovering over her and dogging my every move while she heals. She was healthy and happy here before you, and she will be after you.”

“Right.” Geralt mocked him. “That's why I found her alone in the middle of the woods, at night, about to be eaten by a Kikimora.”

“She had a migraine.” Marcus hissed. “You know nothing of her, Witcher. Life didn't just start when you walked into the picture.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes at the other man. “She walked miles away from her supposedly safe home, because of a migraine.” he growled, disbelieving him.

Marcus sighed, exasperated. “The amount of power, that girl controls on a daily basis.” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “That kind of thing isn't easy and without its costs, Geralt. Her cost, more than not, are those migraines, and they're not always just migraines.”

“What do you mean?”

“The migraine that sent her on the walk to where you found her, I don't know if it was a migraine at all, or at least it may of started out as one. But, she can become...sensitive...in those moments, pain makes people's ordinary defenses weakened or patchy. When, that Kikimore attacked her, she was already attacked by something else, something that called to her and convinced her to open herself up to it. The Kikimore just took its shot at weak pray, but,” Marcus sighed, begrudgingly. “you happened to be in the area to hear it about to kill her.”

Geralt frowned down at the table, confused. “What could do something like that?”

“Something powerful.” Marcus answered. “She's always been an naturally curious child...” he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head at the word. “woman. I've thought of her as a child for so long. I was there when her father found out about their mother expecting them, when they were born and after their parents died. I promised as their Godfather I'd never let anything hurt them, I'd love them as if they were my own, and god knows I have with every fiber of my body and every ounce of my magic.” He looked across at Geralt. “I failed when I lost Nicolas, and I hate myself every day for it. I can not lose her as well. I can not go to whatever after life I go to, when I go to it, and look her parents in the eyes and tell them I failed them and lost both of their precious babies.”

“I'm not here to take Luna from you, Marcus.” Geralt told him, honestly.

Marcus stood up, pushing his chair back against the wall. “But, you are, Witcher. Whether any of us know it. Whenever it is that you leave this place, she will be with you, in every way possible, if she's not already.” he said before leaving.

Geralt dropped back against his chair and groaned, he just wanted to make sure she was safe and out of threat of death. But, why? She was here safe in her family home in the more than capable and protective hands of her Wizard Godfather. Why did he have to stay and ensure it. Sighing and rubbing at his temples, Geralt got up and walked up the steps to his room, stopping a moment before going down her hallway and stopping at her door, listening for anything inside, but he heard nothing at all. He started to knock, but thought better of it, it was late and she needed to rest. Sighing again and letting his shoulders drop before turning back down the hall and up to his room.

Luna woke up late the next morning, feeling more normal than she had in days. She didn't feel as weak and drained, and the fever seemed to had gone down a great deal. Sitting up carefully on the edge of the bed, the cold from the stone floor shot up her bare feet, making a strong shiver race up her back. Glancing around and finding her slippers by her dresser, Luna got up and made her way over, slipping her feet into them. Pressing her hands on her dresser and looking up into the mirror attached to it, She was shocked to see the face looking back at her, her hair was dirty and she was smudged with dirt, muck and blood; the shirt she wore was torn and stained, as was the skirt she wore.

“Christ.” She panted. “I look horrid.” she frowned, pushing her hair out of her face.

Pushing off the dresser, Luna made her away over to the bedroom door to ask Mary-Ella to fetch her some hot water for a bath, but found the door locked. Frowning and jiggling the door handle again, it was locked tight. Growling, she made her way over to her writing desk, pulled open several of the drawers until she found the key she'd hid there in case she wanted to lock the door from the inside and not be bothered.

“Nice try, Marcus.” She snapped, jamming the key into the lock and turning it, but the door still wouldn't open. “Oh, you little cheat!” she yelled at the door, realizing what he'd done.

Putting the key into her pocket and taking several steadying breaths, she pressed her palm to the door, closing her eyes as she muttered a spell to counter the seal Marcus put on the door, it took several minutes for her to manage it and almost feeling like she'd pass out, before the door clicked and she was able to open it. She made her way down the stairs and into the dining room, finding both Marcus and Geralt sitting at the table, quietly eating their breakfasts.

“Luna.” Marcus beamed, seeing her, but faded seeing her expression. “What is it?”

She took the key from her pocket and slid it across the the long table to him, almost tipping over Geralt's glass in the process. “Locking the door was one thing, Marcus.” She answered, trying to keep her voice in control. “But, sealing the door on top of it, is fucked up.”

“I knew you could undo it, Luna.” Marcus assured her. “I didn't put it there to keep you in, anyway.” he added, a fraction quieter.

Geralt's head turned towards the other man, an expression on his face between being shocked and not being surprised at all. Marcus returned a blank expression to the Witcher and Luna stood at the end of the table watching the both of them.

“Men.” She exclaimed after several moments. “Fucking Men. All muscle, pride and ego. The way you two bristle at each other and dance at the edge of wanting to cut the other one's head off. You'd think this destiny was meant for the both of you.” She argued. “You,” she said, looking at Geralt. “Don't even believe in destiny and what have you. And you, Marcus.” she turned her eyes to the other one. “If you're so sure that you're going to keep your promise, and obviously pulling out all the stops, and that you believe he loves the other girl so wholeheartedly, what's the point in going out of your way so much?” she asked, looking between them. “But, who am I? I'm just the woman stuck between the two of you. So, if you guys do finally decide to kill each other, don't make me the reason. I have enough on my plate as is. So, if you excuse me, I'm going to take a nice bath and get clean.”

She left before either man could interject their own thoughts on the matter. Finding Mary-Ella and asking her to get a hot bath going, Luna got herself some clean clothing. She winced peeling off her shirt, turning sideways in the full length mirror to have a better look at the wound on her side. She frowned at the ugly thing, almost the length of her side, black little veins like tentacles flowing over the skin around it, a thin line of blood trickled down over her hip as she stretched the skin there.

“That's going to leave a wonderful mark.” She commented, before carefully slipping into warm sunflower scented water.

The water felt incredible to her battered and sore body, she rested her head back against the pillow at the edge of the tub, letting herself relax and float in the water like she was a cloud in the sky. She nodded off, lulled, her mind flitted between the events of the last several days, back to the night in the forest, feeling something pulling her back in that direction, something calling for her...wanting her. She could hear Marcus's voice calling far in the distance, but it was the voice of her brother calling her name that made her swim deeper into her mind, trying desperately to reach him before its too late, the impending sense of doom and fear warmer around her than the water she bathed in.

“Nicolas.” She whimpered, a heavy weight in her chest grew. “Where are you, brother? Come back, I need you, please.” she begged. “No!” she snapped out of the dream, sitting up in the tub, panting frantically for air. “Damn it.” She cursed, resting back again.

Lounging in the water a while longer, Luna washed her hair and carefully washed her body, before stepping out and toweling off to get dressed, still deeply troubled by the dream she had. She just wanted to find him and make sure he was alright, she didn't need to be taunted by his disappearance. Wandering about her room, boredom set in, as was another growing migraine. So, she pulled on her cloak and decided to walk about the courtyard, not daring another walk like the last one, she'd learned that lesson. The cool air felt good as she took turns around the manor, as she came around one corner of the house she spotted a horse grazing near the garden.

“Well, hello.” she smiled at it, approaching just as Geralt stepped around the other side of the house, but she didn't see him. “How are you.” she chuckled, reaching out a careful hand.

Geralt opened his mouth to tell her not to touch him, that he would bite her if she did, since he was the only one Roach tolerated, but the words died in his throat seeing her rest her hand on Roach's head, and his mouth dropped open a bit more, shocked. He watched her walk around Roach, admiring him, but it wasn't Roach he saw, it was her. Freshly bathed and clothed, Luna's true beauty shined. Her hair was like the color of moonlight, and her skin a smooth olive. The clothing she wore now hugged her body better than what she had been wearing the night he found her, and made the color of her eyes pop, like a lightning strike.

“You are a rather handsome fellow, aren't you?” Luna complimented Roach, patting him and looking him over, and laughed when he neighed, nodded his head and stomped a hoof. “Oh, and you know it? How dashing, I should have known. You must stare at yourself in all the troughs and puddles you come across.” she giggled.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't let your comments get to my horse's head.” Geralt finally managed to say, stepping forward.

“Oh, I don't think that's possible.” Luna smiled, still admiring the horse. “He seems to already know he's handsome, so it's stuck anyway.” she grinned at Geralt. “What's his name?” she asked.

“Roach.” Geralt answered, picking up a brush to brush Roach down.

Luna looked at Geralt with a blank expression for a moment. “You named your horse, Roach?” she asked, scoffing a little bit.

“Yes, it was the only thing he'd answer too.” He explained.

“That's odd.”

“Hm.”

“I am sorry about that little outburst at the table this morning.” she said, after a few quiet moments. “I was annoyed.”

“You had a good reason to be, he shouldn't have locked you in your room.” Geralt answered. “Even, if it was me he was trying to keep out.”

“Exactly, he shouldn't have done it. I doubt you'd have done anything to me, its not like you didn't have plenty of chances before hand to do so.”

They were quiet again for several moments before Geralt put the brush down. “What girl were you referring to this morning?” he asked, looking at her. “The one I supposedly love wholeheartedly.”

“Yennifer.” Luna uttered the name, with a odd taste in her mouth.

Geralt sighed, heavily, and rubbed a hand over his face, sitting himself down on a near by barrel. “I do love her, or I thought I did. I saved her, she's a mage and tried to become the vessel for a djinn that I and a...guy I know, Jaskier, unleashed. The djinn's wishes were mine and I'd already made two and the third one I used to save her, and hoped would make it hard for us to be without each other.”

“And how'd that work out?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

Geralt rolled his eyes at her, raising an eyebrow and pressing his lips together, the look told her it all.

“Swimmingly, then.” she chuckled.

“It's been almost a year.” He muttered, more to himself. “Seems the longer I'm away from her, the more I realize, I was just under her spell and the wish of the djinn.”

“How can you know for sure? Have you tried seeing her again, to make sure?” Luna asked, curious.

“I've seen her twice since our falling out.” he answered, looking up at the sky. “But, I didn't feel the same like I had all the other times. How did you know about her?”

“I told you, you talk in your sleep; she's one of the names you called and I saw her in your dreams, when we were at the inn.”

“Right.” Geralt nodded, connecting the dots. “Should you be out here, in your condition?” he asked, watching her close her cloak around her, tighter.

“I was getting cagey and felt a migraine coming on.” She replied, looking down at her feet. “The air helps the pain, sometimes.”

Geralt looked from Luna to Roach and back, before getting up and throwing his blanket and saddle over his back, securing the straps at his belly, Geralt swung up into Roach's saddle and leaned down, holding his hand out to Luna. Blushing, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her up into Roach's saddle behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, he urged Roach forward and out the gate, riding at a good speed into the surrounding forest. Luna rested her chin between Geralt's shoulder blades, watching the trees zoom by, catching clouds and gray skies above their tops, following a bird as it flew by them, a snow bunting, she guessed. Her eyes turned to Geralt, looking at his hair and over his back, the broad and immense shoulders, he just rippled with muscle, she didn't need to be pressed against him to know that. She pressed her forehead where her chin had been and closed her eyes, taking in his scent. It was an odd mixture of things, but mostly; leather warmed by his body heat and the sun, horse and sweat. But, even all those couldn't mask the scent that was all his own, his masculine scent that seeped out of him and called to her body, mind and soul. She hadn't realized Geralt pulled Roach to a stop, until his hand gripped hers at his waist.

“Hm?” she hummed, picking up her head to look at him as he looked at her over his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

She blushed again, pressing her cheek to his back. “I'm fine, Geralt.” she assured him. “Just enjoying the ride.”

“Good, I don't let just anyone ride on Roach other than myself.” he commented, letting the horse pick up a slow walk.

“Mm, I'm honored to know that you allowed such a thing, and to know that I'm not just anybody.” she chuckled, closing her eyes again, the pain in her temples giving her some reprieve.

“Anyone with a brain can see you're not just somebody, Luna.” Geralt reflected, biting the inside of his lip as he felt her relax against him. “Are you at all curious what causes these migraines so often?” he asked, still curious from his prior conversation with Marcus.

“I know what they are most of the time.” she answered. “The magic I contain, constant battle of wills with myself, always entertaining.” she giggled, opening her eyes again. “I also have visions, occasionally, usually nothing but silly mambo-jumbo. Also, if you believe in mambo-jumbo, I was born six minutes before dawn, a child of the night, so the light of day bothers me. But, I don't believe that bullshit as far as I could throw myself. It's just an unfortunate affliction.”

“Can you identify what is causing it?”

Heaving a sigh, Luna frowned. “No, not always. The pain is usually always the same, unless it's a particular, the ones that actually mean something, vision. Other than that, painful as all get out and useless.”

“So, what kind were you having when you went on your little adventure?”

“It was a normal one, at all pretenses.” she told him. “Until I got within a mile of where you found me and it turned into one of the ones that shows me things. But, I never got to figure out what it was, I blacked out the moment I tried to let it in.”

“And Marcus found you how?”

Luna moved off his back and pulled a necklace from around her neck, she dangled it over his shoulder for him to take and look at. “It was my mother's, I got it after her death, like my brother got our father's signet ring. Marcus enchanted it after his disappearance, in case I was to get in trouble, he'd be able to locate me.”

“Smart man.” Geralt commented, giving the necklace back to her.

“Indeed he is.” Luna smiled, relaxing against Geralt again.

“Let's go back.” Geralt said, turning Roach back towards the manor. “It's getting dark and snow's on the way.”

Luna nodded against his back, eyes closing, lulled off by Roach's rhythm and Geralt's slower heartbeat. She found herself in the dream like she had in the bath, but she could hear her brother talking to someone she couldn't hear. She called to him and he begged her to find him, to go to him. That he was where she was supposed to be, where they both were supposed to be. The person her brother had been speaking to started whispering to her in Elder, making her feel dizzy and struggle to breathe. She jerked out of the dream and would have fallen off the back of Roach, hadn't it been for Geralt grabbing her arm as it slipped from around his waist.

“What happened, Luna?” he called to her, swinging his leg over Roach and getting off him, carefully pulling Luna down as well. “Are you alright?”

She panted, gripping the sleeves of Geralt's shirt, fighting to breathe and make the dizziness stop, to shake the words in Elder out of her head. “Nikki.” she gasped, wide eyed. “Nicolas.”

“What? What about him?” Geralt tried to get it out of her, his concern mounting. “What is it, Luna? What's happening? Tell me what to do!” he barked.

“He's alive.” She said, looking up at him, her eyes going black like ink in water.

“The fuck?” he gasped, startled by her revelation and her transformation.


	4. Sunflowers and Cedarwood

Luna shook her head and took a step back, still panting. “He's alive, Geralt.” she whispered, excitement coursing through her body. “I don't know how to find him, though.”

“Luna, look at me.” Geralt whispered back, his own heart pounding. “Look at me!” he snapped, when she kept rambling on about her brother, cupping her face in his hands to hold her still. “Your eyes.” he added, softer.

Licking her lips, Luna blinked several times and her eyes cleared, returning back to their natural arctic blue. “Chaos is a scary thing, Geralt.” she told him, breathlessly.

“They were like Witcher eyes.” he said, still startled, and confused, staring into her eyes like he could call it back.

“So, I've been told. You're only the second Witcher I've encountered in my life, so I've heard the stories. But, I'm not a Witcher, I promise, and even then I'm sure you'd know if I was...”

“From the moment I saw you.” he interrupted, nodding.

“It's just the Chaos inside of me, it takes a hold and...well, you mostly saw.” she sighed, looking up as the first flakes of snow started to fall.

“You mean there's more to it then that?” he asked, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs.

She frowned at him before her face melted into a face splitting smile, that instantly calmed the Witcher's heart back to its normal rate. “Is there more to you, when you do whatever it is you Witchers do to make your eyes go black?”

“Yes.” Geralt nodded. “But, we take potions to do that, you do it on command.”

“I'll make sure not to let it go to my head.” she teased him, wrapping her hands around his wrists. “And...don't tell Marcus about the eye thing. He'll lose his shit if he finds out that I let my power build like that.”

“And that's a bad thing?” Geralt teased back.

“Well,” Luna blushed, looking down between them. “The last time I allowed my power to build like that, I ended up...blowing up the garden house....” she mumbled.

A grin broke out over Geralt's face, amused. “How did you manage that, I wonder.”

“I was growing something, got really excited that it was budding, and it got out of hand. Ended up killing the plant cause the pot broke and it wouldn't take to its new one.” she confessed, abashed.

A laugh rumbled up from Geralt's chest, and shook his body. “That is incredible. I can only guess at the face Marcus must have had when he found you.”

“Oh, he was terrified at first, then angry, and then finally just relieved I was alright.” She assured him. “He started showing me how to control myself the next day.”

The snowflakes started to grow thicker, but neither of them moved, their warm breath clouding around them. Geralt ghosted his thumb over Luna's lower lip, staring at her lips with a look Luna couldn't decide was want or animal need. She licked her upper lip and rose slowly onto her toes, but even then she couldn't quite reach his lips. One of his hands slipped from her face and gripped the side of her neck, tilting her head back, Geralt brought his face closer to hers, eyes flickering to hers, one last silent ask of permission. He felt the nod more than he saw it, but didn't give it another thought before pressing his lips to hers. Bending, Geralt picked her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, turning to press her back against the tree beside them as their kiss grew more heated and greedy. Luna locked her arms around his neck, pressing herself harder against him, she'd wanted to kiss him more than she thought she did, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. Until Geralt broke the kiss, panting as Luna dropped her head back against the tree, trying to catch her own breath.

“We shouldn't have done that.” Geralt whispered.

Luna chuckled. “Don't tell me you're getting superstitious, now.” she said looking at him, both amused and worried he was.

“Superstition is for religious people and idiots.” he growled back, frowning at her. “We still shouldn't have done it.” he repeated.

“Well, this...” she wiggled her hips against his, feeling the unavoidable hard on pressed between her legs; if only those layers of clothing would disappear. “tells me otherwise, Geralt of Rivia.” she teased, grinning impishly.

Huffing, Geralt untangled from her and walked back to Roach, cursing himself. “Let's go, before Marcus thinks I kidnapped you.” he called over his shoulder, pulling himself back up into the saddle and boosting Luna up behind him. “And don't go trying to fall off again, either.” he added, spurring Roach forward.

“Where have you been?” Marcus asked, as Luna and Geralt walked back into the manor.

“Geralt took me for a ride on his horse.” Luna smiled, her stomach fluttering.

“That better not be a code for your cock, Witcher.” Marcus growled.

“Good god, Marcus.” Luna laughed, shaking her head and turning bright pink.

“Nothing happened.” Geralt growled back.

“Well, something did happen, just not that.” Luna added in.

“Then, what?”

Luna and Geralt exchanged a look. “I had a vision of Nicolas.” she whispered, looking back to her Godfather. “I'm sure he's alive.”

Marcus's shoulders slumped, but his heart jumped. “Luna...”

“I know what you're going to say, Marcus.” she interrupted him, dismissing it with her hand. “But, it's not the first one like it I've had. I had one when I was bathing earlier this morning, and one I had a few weeks ago. I thought it was just some passing fancy of my mind trying to...I don't know, give myself an answer or wishful thinking. But, the one I had on the ride with Geralt.” she clarified. “The first two, were always the same. Me looking for him, hearing him and never being able to reach him before pulling out of it. This last one, it wasn't just Nik in it. There was someone else. Nik kept telling me to find him that he was where I was supposed to be, where both of us were supposed to be, then this one person started talking to me in Elder, and whoever it was, is far from an amateur, he affected me, got inside of me, making me dizzy and it hard to breathe. If you don't believe me, ask Geralt. If it wasn't for him I'd have fallen off the horse.”

“It's true.” Geralt nodded. “It took several minutes for her to regain herself.”

“Do you know that voice, or heard it else where?” Marcus asked, looking grim.

“No.” She answered shaking her head. “No, I'd remember a voice like that.”

“This is so dangerous.” Marcus sighed, running a hand through his short hair, making it stand up on end. “This could have been some ruse, to get to you. Some magical attack, and you took her out of these walls, what would have happened if this person got more of a hold onto her? That would have been on your head, Witcher.”

“Had I known this would happen, I wouldn't have taken her.” Geralt countered, pressing his lips together. “Besides, she's perfectly safe with me, I wouldn't allow any harm to fall on her.”

“There's only one question, how do we find Nik?” Luna asked, staring at Marcus.

“Luna, we don't even know if it really was Nicolas, and not some kind of attack.”

“It only happens when I fall asleep, mostly.” Luna told him. “If you could just put me into a deep enough sleep, we can find out if it's a trick or if it's real.”

“Absolutely not!” Marcus exclaimed, incensed. “Out of the question, Luna.”

Pressing her lips together and sighing heavily, Luna stepped closer to Marcus. “One of these days, you're going to remember how old I am.” she whispered, spitefully, before going upstairs to her room.

“And you'll remember one day to act your age!” he yelled back after her. “She's not as young as she may seem, Witcher.” Marcus added, seeing Geralt raise an eyebrow at him.

“And how young would that be?” the Witcher asked, eyebrow still raised.

“I've raised her for just over six decades.”

Geralt's head tilted to the side as he blinked with surprise. “She's seventy.”

“Hm, yes.” Marcus grunted, casting his eyes to the ceiling above them. “Going on seven.” he mumbled to himself. “But, if you excuse me, Witcher, I have work in my study that demands my answers.” he said, turning on his heels and marching towards his study.

Geralt looked after both of them, before shaking his head and retiring to his room. Throwing himself back against the bed, Geralt frowned at the arched stone ceiling, he was getting too old to struggle with sleep like this. Quarter hour naps were not enough to keep him on his game and alert; he had to find some way to sleep, even for a few hours. He felt almost desperate over it, and if there was something Geralt of Rivia didn't like feeling, it was desperation. Flexing his hands, joints popping as they clenched into fists at his sides, he growled out of frustration and stood up, yanking open the bedroom door and stalked down the hall, for what, he didn't know; he just had to move before he lost his wits. He stopped dead in his tracks, catching the whiff of something fragrant...sunflowers. Looking around him, he saw a cracked open door and silently moved towards it, careful of being seen. A shadow passed by the door, and the sound of something heavy being dropped reached him. Narrowing his eyes, Geralt carefully pushed the door open a fraction more and slipped inside, catching a glimpse of Luna moving around a tall, free standing bookcase. Taking a quick look, he identified the room was a large personal library. With several more silent steps, Geralt rounded the bookcase she'd disappeared around and found her leaning over a table pushed against the opposite side of the room, leaning over a large book propped up on it. He moved closer to her, taking in a deep breath of sunflowers and...Cedarwood.

“Stalking me, Geralt?” Luna asked, flipping a page in the book.

“No, I couldn't sleep, so I was...” he cleared his throat. “looking around when I noticed the door open and you inside.”

She chuckled, looking at him over her shoulder. “You smelled me out, you mean. You walk quietly, but your breathing was not, and the candle caught your shadow.” she pointed out.

“Observant.” He complimented her. “You do smell rather nice.” he added, in more of a blurt.

“Thank you, I rather like it myself.” she smiled, before turning back to her book.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, peeking over her shoulder

“Some of the same reason you're up.” she answered, sighing and skipping several more pages. “Can't sleep, restless, bored and curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“The vision.” she confessed, turning to face him and leaned back against the table. “I want to know what it was they were saying to me. The whispering was a bit more complex in Elder than I'm familiar with, so, I'm looking through the library for the books on advanced Elder Speech spell casting.”

“That's not safe or wise, Luna.” Geralt warned her.

“I'm not repeating any of it, or trying it on anyone, Geralt.” She snapped, softly. “I just want to know what it was, what it meant. It could lead me to Nikki.”

“Or into a trap.” he snapped back.

“Ah!” Luna yelled, shoving back against the table. “You sound just like fucking Marcus!”

“Because he isn't always wrong, Luna.” Geralt responded, resting his hands on her shoulders. “He's only protecting you.”

“My whole life, Geralt.” Luna whispered, looking up at him. “I'm not a child anymore, I'm tired of being treated like one, no matter how I act or what I do. It's suffocating and depressing, and makes every inch of my body crawl.” She whimpered. “I just want to live and be free, and myself.”

Geralt frowned down at her, his body relaxing as he felt for her. He knew what it was like to want what she wanted, he'd felt it endlessly in Kaer Morhen as he trained, growing up. He rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. “You still have many years yet to be so. But, until we're sure what this is, I agree with Marcus. You are safe here, this is your home.”

She looked back at him, defeated and deflated. She knew he was right, and so was Marcus, it still didn't make her happy and it wouldn't stop her from looking for her brother entirely. “I might be able to help you sleep.” she told him, quietly.

“You think so?” he replied, a smirk tugging on one side of his mouth.

“I'm sure.” she added, taking one of his hands in hers and leading him back out of the library.

Luna led Geralt back to his room and motioned for him to lay down on the bed as she pulled off her slippers and slipped out of her robes, revealing a silk shift beneath it. She bent down and pulled a small vial from an inside pocket of her robes, then came to kneel beside Geralt's side on the bed.

“This isn't appropriate.” Geralt rasped, watching her.

“Coming from the one that cuddled me hours after meeting.” she teased, dabbing a bit of what was in the vial on her thumb.

“I was trying to save you.”

“Noble, I'm sure.” Luna chuckled. “But, if it's my maidenhood you are concerned with. I can assure you, that's not the help I had in mind, and I no longer have one to give. So, on all fronts we are safe.” She smiled, blushing wildly.

“You're not a virgin anymore?” he asked, amazed.

“I am not.” she told him, gently pressing her thumb just under his chin and slipped it down over his throat to the hollow above his collarbone. “I lost it some time ago, to a boy I had a small thing with, whilst visiting my Aunt when I was in my twenties.”

“Does Marcus know?” he inquired, taking a deep breath as the scent of Bergamot reached his nose.

“Certainly not, or I'd probably still be locked in my room.” She smiled, moving one of his arms to cross his stomach, and rested the other in her lap. “Does it bother you, that I'm not?” she asked, slipping her hand up his shirt, pressing it to his chest.

“Should it?” His eyes closed, the scent of Bergamot, Sunflowers and Cedarwood filling his senses, and an increasing warmth radiating from her hand on his chest, it was like she laid a pleasantly warm stone there. The warmth spread from her hand on his chest, down his torso to his legs and feet, over his arms and filling his mind like being submerged in hot water.

“I don't know that's why I asked.” she told him, closing her own eyes as she focused.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, half dozing already.

Luna smiled, humming softly, her free hand taking Geralt's from her lap and threading their fingers together, she rubbed the top of his hand with her thumb. She stayed just like that, humming and still until she felt his breathing under her palm change into an easy rhythm, telling her he was finally asleep. Chucking softly, she moved her hand from his chest and started to let go of his hand so she could put her robe and slippers back on, and go back to her own bed, for some sleep of her own. But, Geralt's hand gripped hers tighter.

“Don't go.” he murmured, still asleep.

“But, I need to sleep too, Geralt.” She whispered back, quietly.

“Hmm.” he moaned, shifting on to his side, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her to lay down with him, tucking her against his body. “Sleep.” he rumbled.

Sighing and shaking her head, Luna made a motion with her hand, making the blankets move from the foot of the bed and cover them up. “Good night, Geralt.” she whispered, falling asleep instantly.

Geralt woke several hours later, shifting and turning his face into Luna's hair. He took another breath, soothed by her scent and the heat of her body pressed to his. He pressed his lips to her silk clothed shoulder and hugging her closer to him.

“Shh.” he whispered, when she whimpered in her sleep. “You're safe with me.” he assured her, brushing her hair behind her ear, and looking down at her sleeping face. “Always.” He caressed her cheek, as he drifted back off to sleep.

“Good morning.” Luna called, as Geralt rolled over onto his back.

“Morning.” He replied, rubbing his face. “What did you do to me last night?” he asked, he hadn't felt this rested since before he left Kaer Morhen the first time.

Luna shrugged. “Simple. The scent of Bergamot helps your senses relax and heat helps your body relax. I figured being you use both a great deal in your line of profession, it was the simplest thing to treat.”

“And you were right.” he told her, sitting up and smiling at her as she sat by the fire.

“It would seem so.” she smiled back. “I am rather flattered as well, by the way.” she added, turning her eyes back to the flames.

“By what?”

“You woke me up,” she stated, making him frown. “Calling my name.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, letting his head thump back against the headboard.

“Mmhmm.” she tittered, nodding.

“I-” Geralt started to explain, but Luna cut him off.

“What did you say last night in the library?” she frowned, suddenly recalling it. “About my being here?”

“That you are safe here.” he repeated.

“No, there was something else.”

“That it's your home.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?” 

She shrugged, “I don't know.” she lamented. “Are you hungry? You missed breakfast.”

Geralt's head snapped in her direction, “I what?”

“You missed breakfast, it's just past noon. You slept the last part of the night and all morning, dear Witcher. Seems you've been a very tired, boy.” she teased him.

“Christ.” he breathed, dragging a hand through his hair.

“I'll have Mary-Ella bring you some lunch.” Luna said, getting up.

“Where are you going?” Geralt called after her.

“You need to eat, and I need to bathe and dress for the day.” She told him, opening the door. “Can't laze about in bed all day, sleepy head.” she laughed, walking out.


	5. A Severed Wound

Mary-Ella brought Geralt the food Luna promised she would, and begrudgingly assented to her drawing him a bath and laundering his clothes while he washed. The Witcher admitted, _to himself only_ , that the bath was rather pleasant, and needed, as was the feel of clean clothes against his skin. He'd just finished tying the strings of his pants when Marcus rudely entered his room. He sighed, figuring the old man had found out about he and Luna sleeping together the night before, and came to chew him out for it.

“We didn't have sex,” he started, cutting Marcus off. “I swear to it, we just shared a bed.”

Marcus's already furious eyes, grew wider with even more emotion. “You what?” he croaked.

“I found her in the library last night, I couldn't sleep. She and I spoke, she said she had something that could help me sleep, and she did.” Geralt explained, realizing that wasn't why Marcus was there. “I admittedly didn't want her to leave, so...she stayed with me. We cuddled, but nothing more than that, you have my word.”

The Mage's mouth worked open and closed like a gasping fish, aghast, at what the Witcher just admitted too.

“What's going on, Marcus?” Geralt asked, impatient. “That's obviously not why you're here to yell at me about, so, what is it?”

“I was here to demand you tell me where she is...” Marcus gulped, thickly.

“Where she is?” Geralt glowered, lost. “I haven't seen her since she left my room at noon...”

Marcus rolled and squeezed his eyes shut, his body slackening. “She's gone.”

“Gone.” Geralt echoed. “Gone where?”

“I was hoping you'd be able to tell me, since the pair of you seemed attached at the hip since you met.” Marcus answered, dropping into a nearby chair. “I have no idea where that girl could have gone.”

“You have a spell on her mother's necklace, can't you track her that way?” Geralt asked, looking down at him.

“How do you know that?”

“She told me on our ride yesterday.”

“Of course, she did.” Marcus scowled. “She's talked to you more in four days than she's talked to me in the last year.” he pouted. “Is there anything she's said to you, that could give you a hint of where she might be going?”

“She never really talked about going anywhere.” Geralt answered, sitting at the foot of the bed. “She brought up just wanting to be free and herself.”

“I'm sure you encouraged that.” Marcus scoffed, venomous.

“I did not.” He replied, smugly. “Quite the opposite. I told her she was safe here, and it was her home.”

Marcus's eyes shot to Geralt's. “Her home...” he whispered, getting up. “She said, in her vision with you yesterday, that her brother kept telling her to go where she belonged, where they both did.”

“Yeah.” Geralt nodded. “Wouldn't that be here?”

“No.” Marcus shook his head. “While this place was owned by her family, her grandfather gifted me this house when I started my services with him. The actual family home is a few hours ride from here, it's been empty since the twins came into my care.”

“Could she have gone there, then?”

“How would that be where she and her brother belonged?” Marcus asked, but even as he said it, the thought stewed in his mind. “I had the place searched, several times, when Nicolas disappeared. There was nothing there but overgrown weeds and crumbling stone.”

“She may think otherwise.” Geralt said, putting his boots on hastily. “I'll go and look for her there, just point me in the direction. You stay here in case she comes back.” he said, hurrying down the stairs and out to the stables to saddle Roach.

“It's about a two hour ride to the East, you'll know it when you see it.” Marcus told him, watching him saddle Roach. “Just bring her back.” he pleaded as Geralt swung up into Roach's saddle.

“Don't worry.” Geralt said, gripping the reins. “I told you, she's safe with me.” he kicked Roach's side and took off at a gallop.

Geralt made it to the estate just as dark fell, everything seemed quiet and still as he jumped off Roach's back, but to Geralt's heightened senses, he could smell and feel the magic vibrating in the air. Either she was here, or someone with plethora of power was. Pulling one of his swords from its sheath, Geralt entered the courtyard, the closer to the house he got the more he felt it, putting him on edge. Glancing between the broken front door and Roach, and making a choice, he pulled a potion from a pouch at his waist, popped the cork and downed it. He eased himself through the door, keeping his back to a wall. Reaching a staircase, Geralt could hear chanting from somewhere up above, definitely a female's voice. 

“ _Come forth, and show yourself_.”

He made it to the top of the stairs and saw the flickering light of candles coming from a room up ahead. He knew for sure it was Luna now as he approached the room, her rhythmic voice chanting in Elder.

“ _By our bond of blood and womb, I open this way to you. So, come forth and show yourself to me. Answer my questions, finally._ ”

A portal opened with a whoosh and a shadow fell across the door as someone stepped through it. He heard Luna let out a breath of relief.

“Sister.” a male voice spoke. “I knew you'd find me, Skye.”

“Oh gods, Nicolas.” Luna answered, overwhelmed. “I've missed you so much, _so_ much.” she told him, getting up and hugging him, tightly. “Where have you been? Why did you go?”

Geralt glanced around the door jam, feeling a knot of jealousy in his stomach seeing Nicolas hold her, biting his lip to keep from growling out, audibly. Nicolas cupped her face in his hands, the look of conflict and hurt etched his face, a face that was so like hers. His eyes were the same arctic blue, same smooth olive skin, but his hair wasn't white like hers, it was more a dirty blond, and he was about Geralt's own height, where Luna just met his shoulder.

“I had to go, Luna.” He told her, brushing his fingers through her hair, affectionately. “I found my real place in this world.”

“What are you talking about, Nik?” Luna narrowed her eyes at him, she could feel him again, the way she had all their life, and what she felt from him wasn't something she'd felt before.

“I found a place where I can be me, where I can expand and embrace my powers, without worry of getting in trouble with Marcus, or the consequences. Just all my raw power. With him.” Nicolas told her, gripping her hands in his. 

“Who, Nikki?”

Nicolas half turned away from her, extending his hand and whispering a chant, he opened a new portal. He smiled at his sister as someone stepped through it, a bald man with a look that made her stomach churn. He smiled at Luna, a look of triumph on his face.

“I'm glad to have finally met you, Luna.” He said, touching her face, but laughed when she jerked her head away. “Your brother has told me so much about you, and your power.”

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Ah, forgive me. How rude.” he bowed, low to her. “I am Oron.”

“He's one of the five leaders of the White Flame of Nilfgaard.” Nicolas told her, excited.

“You went to Nilfgaard?” Luna looked at him, utterly shocked. “Why the fuck would you go to those murderous bastards, Nikki?”

Oron's hand shot out and connected across her cheek. “Hold your tongue, woman.” he snapped.

Nicolas cast his eyes down, as Luna held her throbbing cheek. “I wanted to be free and use my magic how I wished. I serve Nilfgaard with pride, and success. I've used my power to liberate kingdoms and it's people.” he said, growing bold again. “I've avenged our parents.”

“Avenged our parents!” Luna snapped, breaking. “Our parents died in a accident sixty-two years ago, Nicolas, there's nothing to avenge.”

“Wrong!” Nicolas barked back, his face inches from hers. “Our parents were murdered, Luna.”

“Bullshit!”

“It's true, Luna.” Oron chimed in.

“The adviser for Rowan sent assassins to kill us.” Nicolas told her. “They feared us, the power we contain inside of us. Feared we'd succumb to chaos and use it to overthrow them. That's what happened. Oron is the one that pulled me out of the water, so I could save you.”

Luna looked between them, dazed. “Who told you this?”

“I did.” Oron answered. “My men intercepted a carrier carrying the letter to the assassins with the orders to kill you, your brother and parents. We didn't arrive quickly enough to save all of you. But, managed to save the two of you.”

“Does Marcus know any of this?”

“I wouldn't be surprised if he was in on it.” Oron replied.

“Nicolas...” she looked at her brother, searching through their bond.

“I don't know, Nana.” he whispered. 

“So, you just up and left, to join him?” she asked. “You never told me a thing, never even shared it. You've been gone for almost four years, and you chose now, and this way, to come back to me.” She looked at Oron, skeptical.

“Yes, because we're ready.” he told her, clutching her hands, looking at her, pleading with his eyes and their bond.

“For what?”

“With the combine power of both you and Nicolas, Nilfgaard will conquer the rest of the Continent.” Oron stated, plainly. “Your power is even greater than your brother's, and a valuable asset.”

“You want to _use_ me, for your own means.” she summed up.

“It's not using you, Luna.” Nicolas implored her. “This is letting you be yourself, in all your power and glory. Free and unrestrained.”

“As long as I do what he and Nilfgaard say.” Luna barked, jerking her hands out of her brother's. “That's not freedom, Nicolas. That's elected slavery. I won't do it.”

“Luna...”

“You will serve Nilfgaard, you brat.” Oron growled, grasping her upper arm and yanking her to him. “You will learn what true freedom is.”

“You'll know what true freedom is, if you don't release her.” Geralt's voice called from the door, his sword at the ready.

“Who the fuck are you?” Oron barked.

“Nicolas, no!” Luna screamed as he lifted his hand and sent a pulse of energy at Geralt, knocking him back. “God damn it, Nikki.” She howled, pulling at Oron's grip on her.

“You know that fucking Witcher?” Nicolas asked, looking at her.

“Yes, he saved my life!” she cried. “Let me go, now!” she shirked, still trying to get Oron off.

“Not a chance.” he growled, baring his teeth at her.

A look of sheer hatred crossed Luna's face and her eyes grew black, the room seemed to darken and shrink with her growing anger. Pressing her hand to his chest, a huge blast of magic erupted from her, knocking them all back and blowing out the candles. The only light was the waning moon flooding in through the broken widow panes.

“Luna!” Geralt yelled, struggling to his feet.

He heard her uttering a spell, making the house shake beneath their feet. Oron pulled himself to his feet, pulling a sword in the same moment. He stepped forward, raising his sword to strike Luna down, but it was stopped and crossed by Geralt's sword. They pushed against each other, muscles straining and shaking, trying to get the upper hand on the other. With a flick of his wrist, Geralt pushed Oron's sword aside and stepped forward to drive it through him, but Nicolas blasted him again, and seized Oron's blade from the ground. A high pitched sound filled the vibrating air, casting Nicolas across the room and pinned to the wall.

“Oron, run!” He yelled, battling against the magic holding him against the wall. “I'll finish this, just go!”

Looking at them all, Oron growled, agitated, and opened a portal, disappearing before either Luna or Geralt could stop him. Geralt looked at Luna, eyes wide as he saw her standing in the middle of the room, strung as tight as a lute string, her hands clenched like claws, eyes black and head tilted back as she continued to utter in Elder.

“This your fault, Luna!” Nicolas barked, her anger infecting him and mixing with his own. “We could have had everything, _together_! We belong together! We are a force this world has never seen! Stunted by that bastard Marcus, and our parents, all our lives because they were afraid of what would happen if we were allowed our full potential. Can't you see that?”

“I see you, brother!” she snarled back, tilting her head forward to look at him. “Using what you call our power to hurt innocent people, because of greedy Nilfgaardians. To what end, Nicolas?” she demanded. “To what end? When they conquer everything, enslave everyone they can and kill those they can't. What will you do then, brother? No, this is your fault!”

They glare darkly at each other, battling between their bond, they didn't need magic for that fight. Luna slid back, hitting the wall behind her. Groaning, she pushed her upper body forward and twisted her hand, sending Nicolas crashing into the ceiling, sideways. Both of their screams pierced Geralt's sensitive ears, making him wince and cover them. Their scream died away and both dropped to their knees, blood streaming from their noses, and panting open mouthed. 

“Luna...” Nicolas groaned, holding his ribs.

“I hate you.” she moaned back, wiping her nose on her arm, to no avail.

“Luna, I....”

Luna picked up her head and looked across the ruined room to her brother. “You left me. You've left me with nothing, Nicolas.”

“You have me.” Geralt whispered, leaning on his hands and knees, his sword still gripped in one of them. “You have me, Luna.” he repeated.

Nicolas stared at Geralt, as he watched his sister. “He's your destiny.” he whispered. “The White Wolf of Rivia.”

“Yes.” Luna nodded, spitting blood from her mouth.

The twins eyes met again and everything connected. They were bound to each other in all things; life, soul and blood. But, for the first time in their lives, the Twins found themselves severed from each other, over the choices they've made in their separation. Nicolas had chosen to follow his destiny; power and aiding Nilfgaard. Luna had chosen to a side against Nilfgaard and to follow her destiny...with Geralt. The throbbing ache of that severed wound bled more profusely than their noses and pained them more than anything in this world could compare too, nothing compared to the bond of a twin.

Or perhaps, something did.

“Go.” She gasped, coughing as the blood from her nose filled her throat. “Just go, Nicolas. We'll fight again, another day. But, please, not tonight.” she pleaded with him, her eyes returning to normal, but dark with agony. “I can not bare two pains.”

His mouth opened to say something, but she choked on her tears and looked away from him. He looked to Geralt; hate, jealousy and envy mastered his eyes. “Take care of my sister, Witcher.” he growled, his hand shooting out to portal, and disappeared...again.

The silence hurt more than all the noise from the fight, but was broken by Luna's choked and bloody sobs. She laid down on the dirty floor and curled up into a ball, hugging herself and shaking as she lost it. Blinking and shaking his head to reorient himself, Geralt crawled to her, resting his hand on her shoulder, and brushed her hair from her bloody face, tears mixing in it. He looked at her, crushed, as he watched and heard her cry. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into his lap and held her, not caring that she got his newly clean shirt dirty with blood, tears and snot, as he rocked her and rubbed her back. She clung to him like a newborn babe to its mother, unable to control herself any longer. Having exhausted herself, Luna laid limp against Geralt, her face still pressed to his chest and tears dripping from her chin. Geralt spun a bloody lock of her hair between his fingers, his cheek resting atop her head. He could feel she wasn't ready to move from where they were, so, he rested his back against the cracked wall behind him, and let her take her time.

She sniffled, despite the blood now clotting in her nostrils and shifted in Geralt's arms. He looked down at her wet, bloody, dirt smeared and blank face, her eyes lost in the middle distance, and pressed his lips together. He was a Witcher, not trained, or even shown, affection or comfort, things she currently, and sorely, needed. But, he was giving it a try anyway, she needed him. It wasn't entirely true that Witchers couldn't feel, they could like anyone else; human, elf, halfling or dwarf. They were just taught to ignore them, taught that such things were pointless, useless and weak. So, when they did feel, it was awkward.

They sat there like that for an hour, quiet and close. Wiping her face, Geralt wrapped his arms around her and stood up, picking her up in his arms and carrying her down the stairs and out of the house. He set her down on a overgrown stone bench in the front courtyard, went to Roach and took his cloak from his pack, wrapping it around her body.

“I'll be right back.” he assured her, giving her a look of gentle, ' _stay put_ ', before going back into the house to retrieve his sword.

She didn't look at him as he came out, wiping his sword on the leg of his pants. She stood up silently, holding her hands out palms up and fingers spread apart. Geralt stood in front of her, frowning and narrowing his eyes at her, following her eye line back to the house. Luna slowly curled her fingers into her palms, the house creaked and groaned before the roof caved in. Geralt's eyes flashed wide and to her.

“Luna..” he called, but it was too late.

Her hands closed into tight fists and the entire house collapsed in on itself, into a pile of rubble; stone, wood and all. “There will not be a place for he and I, ever again.” she whispered, looking up at him, painfully indifferent now.

“You're hurt, Luna.” Geralt whispered back, taking her hands and unfolding them. “Betrayed and lost.” He clutched her hands in his, trying to warm them with his own.

“I don't-” she whispered, hot tears filling her eyes again. “I don't know, Geralt. He was the one person I was supposed to trust...and I can't anymore.”

“You can trust me.” Geralt told her, fervently, pressing one hand to his chest and cupping her face with the other, wiping away the unshed tears. “You can trust me, always, Luna. And you will always be safe with me.”

“You promise?” she mewled, swallowing hard.

“I promise.” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her, gently.


	6. Freedom and Destiny

Luna rested her forehead against Geralt's chest when they broke the kiss, and he rested his chin atop her head, wrapping his arms around her. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, Geralt turned her around and walked them to Roach, but she resisted his attempt to help her up.

“What?” he asked, tilting his head at her.

“I-” she struggled for words for a moment. “I don't want to go back, to Marcus. Not yet.” she confessed, biting into her lip. “I can't take his questions and lectures, not right now.”

Geralt lifted his face to the dark sky, there were gray clouds over head, but didn't seem threatening. “Alright.” he nodded, helping her up then and getting up with her.

Urging Roach west, Geralt and Luna rode in silence. He rested his hand back on her leg hearing her sniffle, his stomach flipping at the sound. They didn't ride long and soon came to a halt, where Geralt once again dismounted Roach and helped Luna off, he tied Roach to a near by tree, then took a hold of Luna's hand and led her a little way away to a small stream. He knelt by it with her, helping her wash away the blood from her face and hair, and clear her nose so she could breath through it again.

“You exhausted a great deal of energy.” He commented, as she sipped water from her cupped hands.

“About all I had,” she muttered back, splashing the cold water in her face again. “Plus some that he and I shared.”

Geralt rested back on his heels, pressing his lips together and chewing on his bottom lip. “I'm curious....” he said, looking out over the forest in front of them, finally voicing something that had bothered him since he met her.

“And what's that?” she asked, the fatigue setting in.

“That was all the power you currently have, right?” he asked, settling his eyes on her.

“Pretty much. I didn't go as chaotic as I could have, or the whole house would have swallowed us.”

He nodded, “Our so called destiny, says that when we fulfill it...”

“When we have sex and bind to each other like a form of marriage, you mean.” she added, chuckling as she looked into the water.

“Hm.” he grunted. “You're supposed to then have your full power. All of it.”

“Yeah, and your point?”

“You, as you are right now, are one of the most powerful magic wielders I've meet in the hundred years I've been alive, and Witchering.” Geralt said, fixing her with an intent stare. “If we fulfilled this destiny, you'd most likely be in the very top edge of power, who knows what you would truly be capable of.”

Luna looked at him, “You're scared of me...”

“No.” Geralt said, sharply. “I'm worried what that kind of power could do to you, Luna. I saw what it did to you in there,” he told her, pointing back to the rubble in the distance.

“I was in control there, Geralt.”

“You were angry...”

“Yes, I am angry!” She snapped, standing up. “But, I was still in control of myself. I could have killed them, I could have killed all of us, if I wanted too. And the Gods know I wanted to kill that man and put as much harm on my brother as I could without killing him, but I didn't. Seventy fucking years, I've been alive, Geralt. Living with these powers, day in and day out. I know what is in me, and I know what I can do with it. Whether I keep the power I have now, or gain the power that apparently only you can give me, I will be in control.”

“But how do you know?” Geralt barked back, getting to his own feet.

“I guess, we'll never really know until we succumb to our lust for each other.” she said, wanting her words to burn into him.

Luna's eyes widened, amused and taunting as Geralt stood there flexing hands at his side, his face jumping between anger, lust and shock. Letting out a grunt of frustration, he turned and marched several feet away. He couldn't let this get the best of him, not here and not now. He had to keep a hold of himself, for her. Turning on his heels again, he went to Roach pulling his blanket roll from his back and laying it out, before going into the woods to think and gather wood for a fire. When he got back, Luna was sitting on the edge of the blanket, rubbing her thumb over her mother's necklace.

“I always feel some level some conflict between us.” he said, piling the wood together. “I fucked up a relationship with a woman I thought I loved, with everything I have, and it didn't seem enough.”

Luna huffed at his words, rolling her eyes, but not didn't answer him.

“With you...it seems more than enough. But, I'm....afraid.” he gulped at the hard lump in his throat at the word. “Afraid that, I'll fuck it up with you, it'll end up not being enough in the end and I'll lose you and that will hurt a million times more, because I know my love for you is natural.”

She looked at him, startled by his words.

“I-I love you, but I'm afraid that if we go any farther with this, that I won't meet up to the expectations of it. Like a husband's.”

“What expectations, Geralt?” she asked, finally giving in. “I gain some stupid power, so what. You think that's all I want from you? To sleep with you then run off when I get it. That if we do, that I'll stop trusting you...loving you and wanting to be with you and near you, and to need you.”

“Yes.” he whispered, coaxing the flames to catch the other branches in the fire. “The agony of you not needing me or wanting me or loving me anymore, is more than I can bare. And I'm a Witcher for god's sake. I've fought monsters and demons, walked the thinnest line between life and death, and losing _you_ is more than I can take.”

“Geralt.” she spoke his name, softly. “Geralt, come here.” she ordered him, weakly. “Come on, you silly Witcher, you know you wanna.” she teased him, til he gave up and knelt in front of her. She stood up on her knees, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. “It doesn't matter.” she whispered to him, ever so quietly.

He tilted his head at her, his brow creasing.

“It doesn't matter if we fulfill this so-called destiny. It doesn't matter to me if we ever make love. I just want you, right now. Here, with me.” she told him, brushing stray strands of his white hair out of his face from where it came loose from its tie. “And there's not a damn thing in this world, or the next, that will make me feel or think any different, or take me from you.”

“I suppose destiny wins this.” he quipped.

“Hey, it's a fair loss. I got you out of it.” she grinned, kissing him.

Geralt caught them a rabbit to eat for their late supper and built the fire up a bit more before laying down with Luna on his blanket, using his cloak to cover them up. They laid close and facing each other, just staring into each other's eyes and being together in the moment. Luna rested her hand on Geralt's side and frowned when he winced. She sat up pulling the cloak away and his shirt up, seeing the giant bruise on his side.

“At least one is broken.” he commented, making her lay back down. “It'll be alright, I heal fast.” he assured her, covering back up.

She nodded, closing her eyes and gently laying her hand on his side. He gasped feeling that heat from her hand, making the bone under his skin tingle. He jerked lightly feeling a sharp pop and looked at her, surprised.

“I thought you said you didn't know healing magic.”

“I didn't until last night, I learned it from one of the books I was reading through.” she told him, snuggling closer. “Something told me, it come in handy. Then, you showed up all restless and it gave me a chance to use it.”

“I was your test subject.” he chuckled.

“You slept reasonably well, if I say so myself.” she laughed back. “The heat's nice either way, but you're a sight warmer than that.” she draped her arm over his side and rested her head on his arm, letting herself start to drift off.

“Take me with you.” Geralt whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

“Hm.” she hummed, pressing her hand flat to his lower back. “As you wish, sir.” she answered, obediently.

Geralt felt the warmth of her hand increase and the sudden pull of sleep tug on him, his arm slipped inside her shirt, smiling faintly feeling her skin dance under his fingertips as he touched ticklish spots. He wrapped his arm securely around Luna, nosed her hair and yielded to the sleep she was offering him, willingly.

– –

Both were stiff in the morning, sleeping on the hard frozen ground didn't help the pains from the fight the night before, but there wasn't a rush. The ride was short, and they were both content to take their time before the storm of telling Marcus what had happened blew in. Exhaling heavily, Geralt and Luna mounted Roach and started their way back to the manor, they rode quietly, not needing to talk.

“Oh, praise the gods, Luna!” Mary-Ella exclaimed, rushing out the front doors. “Witcher! We have an issue, its urgent.”

“What is it, Mary?” Luna groaned, getting off Roach's back.

“It's Marcus.” the maid panted. “We were attacked last night.”

“Fuck.” Both Geralt and Luna uttered at the same time before taking off inside.

“Where is he?” Luna demanded, entering the house, frantic.

“He's in his study.” Mary-Ella told her, ushering her there.

“What happened?” Geralt asked, following close behind them. “Who attacked?”

“We don't know.” Emmon answered as they arrived in the study, he was kneeling by Marcus, who laid on the floor by his desk, clutching a wound to his chest. “Mary-Ella and I had already retired to our room for the night. Marcus stayed up here to wait for you both to arrive back. Sometime in the early morning, I heard a commotion, and guessed that you and Luna returned, thinking nothing of it...”

“Until I found him this way, this morning, to take him his morning tea.” Mary-Ella added in, ringing her hands in her apron.

“Marcus?” Luna whispered, kneeling beside him. “Marcus, can you hear me? It's Luna.” she carefully moved his hand from the wound, and gulped.

“Luna?” Marcus muttered in a thick, dry voice.

“Hey, you'll be alright.” she told him, forcing a smile. “I'll take care of you.”

“Is-Is Nik...” he stumbled.

“He's alive.” Luna nodded, guarding her eyes. “and well.”

“Is he here?”

“No, no, Marcus. He's not. But, that's alright, we know the truth now.” she said, glancing at Geralt. “Who did this to you?”

“I don't know, I've never seen,” he started coughing, blood staining his already ruined tunic.

“That's fine. Just conserve yourself. I'll heal you.” She said, resting her hand on the wound, but Marcus gripped her wrist and pulled it away.

“No healing will save me from this, little one.” he whispered, looking up at her, and offering her a smile of quiet acceptance. “It's my time.”

“No.” Luna whimpered, her voice creaking. “You have to let me at least try.”

“Luna.” Geralt called, quietly.

She looked up at the Witcher, a look of pleading in her eyes, trying to convince him with that look to make Marcus let her heal him. But, the look faltered seeing Geralt press his lips together and fight to keep looking her in the eyes, ruining what little hope she had left. She looked back down at her Godfather, thick tears dripping onto his shirt.

“You'll be okay, girl.” Marcus told her, reaching up and caressing her cheek. “You grew up into a fine, smart and beautiful woman, and I should have given you more credit and praise for it.”

“You can't die, Marcus.” she begged him, holding his hand to her cheek. “I still need you too.”

Marcus laughed, then coughed. “You haven't needed me for a very long time, my love.” he wheezed. “It's the Witcher you need, and vise versa.” he told her, looking between them. “Emmon, take Luna out. I need to speak with Geralt alone, before it's too late.”

“No, no no!” Luna begged, struggling as Emmon wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her from the study.

“I will always love you, as my child.” Marcus called to her, as the door closed. “Witcher...” he coughed, groaning as he held his wound. “I don't have much more time, but before I go. We need to talk.”

Geralt nodded and knelt beside the dying mage. “I'm listening.”

“I know, I haven't been welcome, or gentlemanly, towards you since we met in that inn.” he swallowed, visibly and struggled. “I didn't trust you, and in truth, a part of me still doesn't.”

“Hm.”

“But, it no longer matters what I think or feel; she trusts you, and clearly loves you.” he continued. “For that, you are the only person I can trust, even a modicum, to watch over her, the best you possibly can. So, with that, Geralt of Rivia, I give you my blessing...of her, and whatever the two of you do with it, after my death.”

Geralt bend his head, his chest heavy. “You have my word, she will be safe in my care, even if it means sacrificing myself, to ensure it.”

“Thank you.” Marcus whispered, softly.

Geralt rested by Marcus until the Wizard drew his last breath, before going out to face Luna. “Where is she?” he asked Emmon as he entered the hallway.

“In her room.” Emmon told him, quietly, seeing by Geralt's grim face that his master was dead.

Nodding, Geralt mounted the stairs and made his way to Luna's room. He stood at the door, collecting himself before entering. Luna shot up from her chair as he entered, closing the door behind him, he frowned at her.

“I need to see him.” She demanded.

“You can't, Luna.” Geralt told her, gently. “He's already gone.”

The room tilted on her and she sat back down, stunned. “Fuck, Geralt.” she whimpered. “I wanted to be free, but not like this. I didn't want to endure two pains at once with Nicolas, and it seems I'm doomed to suffer them, anyway.” she sighed, fighting back more tears. “I'm free now, and I don't know what to do with it.”

“Come with me.” Geralt told her, closing the gap between them.

“On the road, while you kill monsters?” she asked, looking up at him a teeny sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

“Yes.” he nodded, serious. “Marcus, shockingly, gave us his blessing and I made him a promise, to keep you safe. I can do my best at that, with you, coming along with me.”

“And what about this place?” she asked, looking around her room, the room she'd spent nearly all her life.

“Leave it to Mary-Ella and Emmon, as your grandfather left it to Marcus.” he suggested, sitting across from her.

“My inheritance would cover it,” Luna nodded. “Plus more.”

“You have an inheritance?”

“Oh yeah.” Luna chuckled, despite herself. “My parents were quite rich. Left both Nicolas and I a goodly sum in their wills.” She looked up at him, seeing the expression on his face. “Are you going to get greedy, Geralt?” she teased him.

“Of course not, I just didn't entirely expect that.” he admitted. “I don't care much for coin to start with, unless it comes to killing monsters.”

“Fair. I'd want a good amount of coin for a monster, especially, if it killed me. I wouldn't want to die for a pitiful sum.”

“Exactly.” Geralt grinned, nodding his head.

“So,” she looked at him. “Where do you want to go?”

“Well, I was on my way to Barefield, before I was forced to take a detour.” He said, rubbing his face, to hide his smile.

“Horrid detour, I'm sure.” Luna saw it anyway. “What's in Barefield?”

Geralt shrugged. “Work, perhaps. I heard they had a pest problem and thought I'd go out and see for myself.”

Luna nodded, rubbing her lips together, she hadn't been more than three towns from the manor before, and even that was a long time ago. She was anxious and excited at the thought of going so far as Barefield. A million thoughts and questions sprung open in her mind at the prospect, but she pushed them aside and jumped back to the current situation that was brewing around them, even then.

“We still have to deal with Marcus's body.” she said, toneless.

“I know.”

Not moving for several more moments, Luna got up and went to the door, her hand resting on the handle, she could feel Geralt's eyes on her back and glanced over her shoulder at him, watching his eyes flick up to hers, a look of guilt on his face that made her laugh. Wiggling her butt at him, she opened the door and went down to Marcus's room. She could tell by the still made bed and his sleeping clothes still draped over the edge that he hadn't even gone back to his room after she left the day before. She stepped around his room, her fingers lightly touching this or that on his desk, mantle and bedside table. Walking into his closet, she carded through his robes, tunics, cloaks and other clothes, until her hand touched a tunic of pine green and gold color thread. She remembered that tunic, it was the one he wore when he came to pick her and Nicolas up at her Aunt's a week after her parents died. Pulling it off the hanger, Luna pressed it to her face, drawing in a deep breath to fill her nose with the scent of herbs and parchment paper. Hugging it to her, she nodded and took it downstairs, finding Mary-Ella already preparing Marcus's body for burial.

“Emmon and the Witcher went out to the garden to dig a grave.” the Maid told her, wiping a wet cloth over Marcus's face. “He always loved being in that garden when something troubled him.”

“That he did.” Luna nodded, setting the tunic down and picked up a cloth to help her bath him. “I want him buried in that shirt, Mary.”

“Of course, Miss.” Mary nodded, wringing the cloth over a bowl. “You've...” she started, taking the damp cloth and wiping the blood smear off Luna's cheek where Marcus had touched her.

“Oh,” Luna blushed. “thank you.”

Having prepared and dressed Marcus's body, and the grave dug, Emmon and Geralt carry the shrouded Wizard to the grave they dug in the garden and carefully lowered him in. Luna stood there like a statue as Geralt and Emmon shoveled the dirt back into the grave, watching the man that raised her, loved and protected her slowly disappear, and her stomach clinched at the thought she'd never see his face again or hear his laugh, or his lectures when she did something wrong. She didn't move until the grave was covered again, ignoring the shiver as the cold wind blew around her. Emmon stopped beside her, resting his hand gently on her shoulder, before moving back the house. Geralt stood a the opposite side of the grave from her, just watching her. She stooped and pressed her hands into the disturbed soil, whispering under her breath. The soil shifted as shoots rose up with little white snowdrop flowers springing up among the grass.

“We can leave tomorrow.” Geralt finally spoke.

Luna looked up and at the grounds around her, then nodded. “Good.”

Luna explained to Emmon and Mary-Ella that she and Geralt would be leaving the next morning for Barefield and where ever from there, and that the Manor was now theirs. The pair were stunned to hear the news, but understood why she was doing it, and going. Dinner was silent and so was the rest of the evening, Emmon and Mary-Ella retired to their own room and Luna went up to hers to take a much needed bath. She had her back to the door when it opened, making her groan, she just wanted to be left with her thoughts for a while.

“I don't need anything, Mary.” she called over her shoulder, pressing a sponge to her shoulder. “You can go.”

“And if I don't want to go?” Geralt's deep voice answered back.

Luna twisted around to look at him, her stomach dropping out at his smile. “It's not like I can best a Witcher.” she said, slowly.

“Hmm.” he nodded, grinning a bit more and stepping closer to the tub. “Perhaps not, but I wouldn't mind seeing you try.” he admitted, dipping his hand into the water.

“Maybe one day, when we're both not so tired.” she told him, watching his movements.

Geralt nodded again, agreeing. He stepped back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside, toed out of his boots and pulled open the strings to his pants. He glanced up at her, hearing her soft moan as he pushed his pants down his legs, a devilish grin playing at his lips as he stepped out of them. Luna moved over in the tub, to make room for him. Geralt gladly sank into the water beside her, reaching out to trace his fingertips over the edge of her jaw and over her cheek, his fingers moving into her hair, tugging it loose from its tie; letting it fall over her shoulders and down her back. Luna sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as his fingers glided down over her neck and along her collarbone, dripping them lower between her breasts. He cupped one of them comfortably in his hand, thumb caressing over her hardened nipple, making her gulp and shiver. Geralt dropped his hand from her breast and into the water, grabbing her by the legs and pulling her into his lap, attacking her lips with his as she moaned feeling him harden against her.

“Geralt.” She panted, breathy against his lips. “I want you.” she mumbled, pressing down against his cock and rubbing against him, making him growl into her mouth. “I _need_ you.” she clarified, cupping his face in her hands and making him look at her, gold mixing with blue. “Please.”

Standing up, abruptly, Geralt carried them out of the bath and back into Luna's bedroom, laying her down on her bed, he attacked her lips again, but Luna was ready to battle him back this time; flicking her tongue at his as it slipped into her mouth. He pushed one of her legs wrapped around his waist up, bending her knee to press against her shoulder, and slipped his hand down her warm, wet body, cupping and squeezing her breast before moving down to take it his mouth. His hand continued, slipping between her legs, finding her even more wet there than from the bath. Luna moaned, her back arching as his fingers slipped into her core, his greedy mouth switching to her opposite breast, leaving a dark purple mark in its wake. Luna tightened around Geralt's working, teasing, fingers and moaned in frustration, only making Geralt chuckle around her nipple.

“Impatient.” he hummed, kissing her lips again.

“Can you blame me, when you have a body like that?” she asked, eyes fluttering softly as his fingers brushed her sweet spot.

Licking his lips, Geralt slipped his fingers from her, pausing for a moment, before burying himself as deep into her as their bodies would allow. Pressing into her, Geralt rested his weight on his knees and a arm braced by her head, driving himself into her in slow, deep strokes, and watched everything change to her face. Her eyes were closed, and head pushed back, as her hands slid down his scarred sides to dig her nails into his firm ass, willing him to go deeper, letting her legs fall open and bare herself to him, in full. Spurred, Geralt drove his cock harder into her, letting all the built of lust and long inside of him spill out, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing her firmer to him, their slick bodies sliding together in rhythm, their breath in sync. Luna pushed her hands into Geralt's hair, using it to tug his lips back to hers, making him grunt and buck into her hard; Luna's body tremble beneath him with force. Their movements became more erratic and careless, the pop of their skin connecting with every thrust and the bed protesting beneath them, neither cared. All they wanted was to find each other in that moment, and never let go.

A gasped filled the room as Luna shuttered beneath him, her muscles contracting around Geralt's thickness, as her orgasm washed over both of them, forcing Geralt to reach his own, spilling himself deep inside of her, with a sense for relief and fulfillment. He rolled over, pulling her on top of him and not even bothering to slip out of her, he wanted to have that marvelous warm hug him a while longer. He brushed her hair away from her sweat damped face and rested his palm against her cheek.

“How...do you feel?” he asked, after several minutes of catching his breath.

Luna stirred at the sound of his voice. “Are you asking me for a pleasure report, Geralt?” she teased, weakly.

“No.” he answered, fighting the smile that wanted to pull on his lips. “I mean...do you feel any different...”

“Mm.” she purred against his chest. “You mean the destiny thing.”

“Yes.”

“The only thing I feel right now,” she mumbled. “is exhausted and content.”

He nodded, leaving it at that, for now.


	7. Toss a Coin to Your Witcher

Luna woke feeling a weight around her neck, she reached for it and grabbed something round, hard and warm. Opening her eyes and looking down, she saw it was Geralt's Wolf medallion. Wrapping her hand around it, she picked her head up, but relaxed feeling Geralt's arm squeeze her waist as he laid behind her, sound asleep. He'd slipped the medallion around her neck after she'd fallen asleep. She caressed it with her thumb, feeling the raised fangs of the Wolf's open mouth, and wondered why he'd given it to her, she knew it was an important thing to a Witcher. She didn't get to think too much about it, though, before drifting back off to sleep.

“Why did you give this to me, Geralt?” Luna asked, staring at his back as he dressed. “Don't you need it for hunting?”

“I have another one,” he answered her. “in Roach's bag.” 

She waited for him to answer her other question, but he finished dressing, kissed her cheek and left. Looking dumbfounded at the door, Luna scrubbed her hands over her face and huffed. Throwing up her hands, she went into her closet to find a suitable outfit to wear on their rides. She pulled on a warm and comfortable pair of leggings and a tunic, and secured it around her waist with a belt. Luna looked at herself in the full length mirror in her room, it felt nice having her legs freed from a skirt or dress, bending and straightening her legs at the feel. Smiling giddy, she went to her dresser and pulled out the top drawer, pushing aside the clutter inside, and popped a secret lever, to reveal a hidden compartment. Reaching inside, Luna pulled out a decently weighed leather pouch, bouncing it in her hand, she nodded satisfied and covered the compartment again.

“Are you ready?” Geralt asked, coming back into her room.

“I think so.” She replied, tossing the pouch to him.

He frowned at her, pulling open the pouch strings and looking inside. “Inheritance?”

“Some of it.” she answered, slipping her boots on.

“Should get us a good way; on top of what I get for killing monsters.” he said, storing the pouch in the one around his waist. “You look good.” he added, looking her up and down. “I think I prefer you like this.”

“Do you.” she chuckled, standing back up.

Geralt nodded, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her soundly on the lips. “Mary's made us breakfast, and packed us a bit of food for the journey.” he said, quietly, pressing his forehead to hers. “And I've saddled both horses, so we can leave as soon as we eat.”

“Sounds like a plan.” she replied, resting her hands on his chest.

“Are you _sure_?” He asked, emphasizing.

Luna let out a rough breath, and nodded against his forehead. “I'm positive, Geralt.” she said, looking him in the eye, driving it home.

“Alright, then. Let's eat and saddle up.” he said, taking her hand, supportive, and taking them down to the dinning room, to eat one last meal in the Manor.

– –

It ended up taking longer to detach Mary-Ella from Luna than it did eating and getting beyond the estate's land. It was only after several repeated promises to write her, and Emmon dislodging his wife from her, for Luna to finally mount her horse, Charlie, and follow Geralt out. They only stopped once to water the horses just past noon, and once more to make camp late that night. They split the fresh bread Mary-Ella had baked them, and sipped a jug of ale back and forth as they sat before the small fire at their feet.

“To claim you.” Geralt said, taking a deep swig of the ale.

“What?” Luna frowned around a bite of bread, taking the jug back from him, to wash it down.

“My Wolf medallion.” he explained, reaching out to touch it. “I gave it to you, to claim you. It's the only thing of importance I have to give you, other than myself.” he said, letting it go. “A wedding ring, of sorts, I suppose.” he added, uncomfortable at the unfamiliarity of the word, and feeling.

“What a softy you are.” Luna grinned, blushing.

“Don't...go telling people that.” Geralt grunted, staring into the fire. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“To be sure.” she giggled, unable to contain herself. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

Geralt glared at her from the corner of his eye, but Luna had learned his body language by then, and knew he meant no harm by it. The ride the next day was as long as the first, and in the late afternoon of the fourth day, Geralt and Luna made it into Barefield. It was a dingy little town, dark, wet and muddy, none of which phased them at this point. They tied their horses to the post outside the local tavern and started inside, but as soon as Geralt pushed the door open and the sound of the hustle and bustle inside reached them, his shoulders stiffened and he let out a deep, chesty growl. Luna frowned, peeking around his arm and inside the tavern, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary for a tavern at this time of day.

“What is it?” she asked, looking up at him.

“The song.” he rumbled, sneering.

Frowning again, Luna let her ears pick out the song weaving in and out from the other noises the patrons were making, and sort of recognized the song herself, she'd heard it before, in one of Geralt's dreams.

“...Now pour him some ale!  
Toss a coin to your Witcher  
O’ Valley of Plenty  
O’ Valley of Plenty  
Toss a coin to your Witcher  
And friend of humanity...”

“A friend of yours?” she asked, turning back to Geralt, having spotted the Bard.

“He's not my friend.” Geralt barked between clenched teeth as he stepped into the tavern.

Luna raised an eyebrow and gave Geralt's back a look of ' _sure, whatever you say_ ', before following in his wake, the patrons parting like the sea, as Geralt made his way over to the Bard. He and the Bard stopped dead, their eyes meeting; Geralt's angry and the Bard's startled, with a hint of fear.

“Geralt!” he squeaked, holding his lute closer to his stomach, like he expected the Witcher to punch him. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking of work, what are _you_ doing here, Jaskier.” he stated more than questioned.

“I'm entertaining these fine people.” Jaskier answered, like it was a matter of breathing.

“You know I hate that song.”

“I think it's catchy.” Luna mumbled behind him.

“Who's this, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, looking over Geralt's shoulder from where he stood on a low stool, he didn't see Luna behind Geralt's bulk.

“She's...uh...” Geralt faltered, he hadn't had to introduce her to anyone yet.

“I'm Luna.” she smiled, bright, extending her hand to Jaskier, who took it carefully in his. “It's nice to finally meet you, Jaskier.”

“Finally?” Jaskier and Geralt blurted out.

“Geralt's only _mentioned_ you in _passing_.” she explained, glancing up at Geralt and blushing at his expression.

“Oh,” Jaskier perked up, like a bird fluffing its own feathers. “Has he mentioned my singing voice then?” he asked, giving Luna the impression it was a touchy spot between the two men.

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” she chuckled, feeling Geralt's eyes bore into her.

“A shame, isn't it, Geralt.” Jaskier asked, looking at the Witcher. “At least, she doesn't have to deal with a _filling-less pie_ , hm?” he snarked, then flinched when Geralt made a sudden move.

Luna looked between the two, amused and confused at their banter and behavior towards each other. “Why don't I...” she started, feeling a war brewing. “get the three of us some ale? Maybe a bite to eat as well?”

“Hm.” Geralt hummed, eyes still glued angrily to Jaskier's, as he fished into his pouch and withdrew a bag of their coin.

“Thank you, my lady.” Jaskier added in, still staring back at Geralt, not willing to lose.

“Of..course.” she nodded, and stepped away. “Men.” she added, quietly to herself.

Setting down the large pitcher of ale and a platter of food, Luna managed to coerce the Witcher and Bard to sit down across from each other and poured them each a pint. “So, what's the grudge, then?” She asked, unable to stand it anymore.

“There isn't one.” Geralt rasped, gulping his ale and eyeing Jaskier over the rim.

“You'd like her to think that, wouldn't you?” Jaskier scoffed.

“Well, one of you is going to have to spit it out, eventually.” Luna observed. “Might as well get it out now, before the ale sets in and you two wreck the tavern.”

“Geralt blamed me for all his bad luck.” Jaskier blurted out, not needing another invitation to talk, like he ever needed _one_ invitation to talk.

“It was your fault, you stupid Bard.” Geralt answered, slamming his mug down and splashing ale onto the table.

“It was not!” Jaskier protested. “How was I to know what would happen with the genie in Rinde, or...or at the party in Cintra.”

“If you'd just left me alone, none of it would have happened!”

“I didn't force you to come with me to that Cintra party, and use the Law of Surprise on Pavetta's child! And I didn't force you to use that last wish on Yen...” Jaskier trailed off, seeing Luna's face slacken. “Oh dear, she doesn't know, does she?”

“I knew about the wish.” she gulped a cold knot down. “I didn't know about the Surprise Child...” she said, looking into her mug.

“Damn it, Jaskier!” Geralt barked, even more angry at the Bard. “Luna,...”

Luna held up a hand, stopping him. “So, you two had a tiff over these things...” she said, looking at Jaskier, finding it easier at the moment, then to look at Geralt.

“Yes.” Jaskier nodded like a trapped mouse. “That's when we parted ways, just about a year ago.”

The table fell silent before Luna could find her voice and will again. “So, you blame him for choices you made, Geralt?” she asked, finally managing to look at him.

“If he hadn't pestered me into going...”

“But, you decided to given in and go anyway, that's a choice. You decided to use the last of the three wishes on Yennifer, and it back fired, still your choice. You decided to use the Law of Surprise, for whatever reason, and bind yourself to a Child of Surprise. Also, still your choice, Geralt. Not Jaskier's or anyone else.” She defined it. “Jaskier was just the unfortunate common factor.”

“Exactly!” Jaskier crowed, in agreement. “What she said, Geralt.”

“Shut up, Jaskier!” Geralt raged, slamming his hand on top of the table. “Yes, they were my choices, Luna. I made them.”

“But, you blame Jaskier. Who, by all views, only seems supportive of you.” She pointed out, silently, the pain was enough in her eyes, that Geralt could feel like he could touch it.

Geralt pressed his lips together and extended his jaw in angry discord. “You're right.” he folded, not finding a good enough point to argue with her on.

“What did you just say?” Jaskier's eyes bulged, thunderstruck. “Did you just admit you were wrong?!” he exclaimed.

“No.” Geralt hissed. “I admitted she was right.”

“I'll take it, where I can get it, then.” Jaskier grinned, triumphant.

Luna looked at Geralt, biting back her own smile as she tipped her head slightly in Jaskier's direction, with a raised eyebrow. Geralt flared his eyes at her and pressed his lips firmer together, stubbornly. He wasn't yielding to this, he'd already conceded more than he wanted too. Pressing her own lips together, equally stubborn, and her nostrils flaring, she kicked him in the shin under the table, making it shake.

“Ow!” He protested, rubbing his shin.

“I'll do it again.” she threatened.

Geralt huffed through his nose like an angry bull, refilled his mug, downed all the ale in it in a single breath and fixed an angry expression on Jaskier, but his mouth remained sealed. Jaskier looked even more startled, not catching what was going on before him, his eyes flickering between the two. Narrowing her eyes, darkly, Luna kicked Geralt in the shin again, even harder.

“Leave off!” he roared, feeling the knot already forming on his shin. “Jaskier!” he growled, making the poor Bard look like he was about to pee himself. “I'm sorry.” he told him, teeth clenched almost to the breaking point.

Luna kicked him for a third time, and in retaliation, Geralt pressed his foot down on top of hers, so she couldn't pick it up again. “Spit it out!” she scolded him, shoving his shoulder. “and you know what I fucking mean, Geralt.”

Flexing his hands into tight fists, Geralt conceded, taking a deep breath to calm his temper. “Jaskier, I am sorry for blaming you. It wasn't your fault those things happened.” he told the Bard, softly, and sincerely, this time.

Jaskier leaned forward over the table, looking his friend in the eyes to make sure it really was Geralt of Rivia, and not some Doppler illusion. “I forgive you, Geralt.” he said, happily. “I mean, what are friends for?”

“We're not _friends_.” Geralt grumbled, pouring more ale.

“That wasn't so hard was it.” Luna teased, resting her hand on Geralt's thigh and giggled as he huffed again.

“So, what is it that's going on between the two of you?” Jaskier asked, helping himself to some food. “You weren't like this the last time I saw you, or with you-know-who.” he added, delicately. “I mean you're still the same angry, rough and tumbled Witcher I met over a decade ago, but you seem a bit...more, this go around.”

The pair said nothing, leaning close to each other, Geralt's hand coming to rest over hers on his thigh as he washed away the nasty taste of apology down his throat, and Luna munched on bits of food. Jaskier looked the two over, dots _slowly_ connecting in the Bard's brain. They finally connected seeing Geralt's medallion around Luna's neck.

“Dear gods, are you two together?” he beamed, a smile spreading across his face.

“Something like that.” Luna replied, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Destiny.” Geralt mumbled into his mug.

“What what?” Jaskier frowned again. “What's this about Destiny, coming out of Geralt of Rivia's mouth?” he quizzed.

“We are part of each other's destiny.” Geralt said, putting the mug down, and squeezing Luna's hand. “A Destiny that's bound us tightly together.”

“Like-like....you're...married...” he tilted his head, trying to wrap the idea of Geralt of Rivia marrying anything that wasn't his job.

“In definition, perhaps.” Luna said, amused at Jaskier's face.

“And you didn't even invite me!” Jaskier said, in utter outrage. “Your own Bard friend, didn't get to play at your wedding, Geralt, I am hurt by you.”

“We didn't have a wedding, Jaskier.” Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“It was simpler than that.” Luna grinned, licking her lips at Geralt.

“Oh-OH!” Jaskier got it. “Yeah, I wouldn't want to play my lute while the two of you were making love...that's unless you like that sort of thing, and I could try and come up with a song to sing whilst you did it.” he rambled, mulling it over. “Wouldn't even know I was there, I swear...”

“Shut up, Jaskier!”

“Are-are you the-the Witcher Geralt?” a meek voice asked behind them.

Geralt released Luna's hand and turned on the bench to look at the dirty frightened man, clutching his leather cap in his hands. “I am. What can I do for you?” he asked, in a business like voice.

“W-well, we have a pest pro-problem.” he stuttered, twisting his cap.

“What kind of pest problem?” He asked, patiently, he had enough experiences with terrified people like this man to know rushing them would only make them more skittish.

“At-at our master's farm.” the poor man gulped, unable to take his eyes off the ground. “It's a-a drown de-dead. It comes from the lake not far from his h-home. It's already killed th-three of his workers already this week.”

“Alright, give me directions to your master's farm, and I shall be there shortly.” Geralt assured him, turning his back to the man.

“Tha-thank you, Witcher.” the man blubbered out the directions, and scurried off.

“Oh, this is so exciting! Geralt and Jaskier back together.”

“No, Jaskier. We're not back together.” Geralt popped his bubble, taking a mouthful of food. “You're staying here, with Luna.” he told him. “Entertain her, while I deal with the monster.”

“But-but...” Jaskier protested, mouth agape.

“No.” Geralt hissed. “I'll be back as quick as I can.” he added to Luna.

“I'd rather you take your time and kill the creature properly, so you don't end up getting killed.” Luna countered, feeling worry bind up her stomach and insides.

Geralt brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I'll be fine.” he assured her, kissing her, softly, and throwing a warning in Jaskier's direction.

“That's not fair.” Jaskier pouted as the tavern door closed after Geralt.

Luna giggled. “What was the song you were singing?” she asked, trying to distract him.

“Toss a Coin to Your Witcher.” He answered, ringing his finger around the edge of his mug. “I wrote it after the first job I went on with Geralt.”

“Oh?” Luna smiled, perking up. “What happened? Geralt doesn't really talk about his previous jobs.”

“No, he doesn't, and he's stingy on the details, so it makes writing the songs about it hard.” Jaskier nodded. “We met in Posada, in the Dol Blathanna region. I was playing in an inn at upper Posada and found the mighty White Wolf drinking ale and brooding in a corner, alone. I asked him how he liked the song I'd just serenaded the customers with, in three words or less.”

“Something sarcastic, I'm sure.”

“On point.” Jaskier chuckled. “He told me they didn't exist, then elaborated that the monsters in my song didn't exist. But, I'm sure he meant both. Well, just after a man came up to him, just like now, and asked him to get rid of the ' _Devil of Posada_ '. He agreed and I tagged along with him. I think, he rather enjoyed my company. So, we got to where they'd said this devil was and sure enough there it was, in all its glory.”

Luna narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “What's the catch?” she asked.

Jaskier's head shot up and he looked at her, faining insult. But, gave in seeing she didn't entirely believe him. “Oh, alright. It was a Sylvan named Torque. He's a human like, goat thing. He threw iron pellets at us, it's how Geralt got that scar on his forehead.” he told her, touching the spot the scar was in, answering her curiosity about it. “Next thing, I knew I was waking up in a cave tied up to him and we got beaten up by Elves; Filavandrel and his horde. The Sylvan had been stealing for them.”

“What did Geralt do? Obviously you guys made it out alive.”

“Oh, yes! But, not to Geralt's lack of trying. He tired to get the elf to kill him, but only ended up talking sense into the Elf King and convincing him to let us go.” he explained. “And!” he pointed at finger in significance. “Gave the elves all the coin he was given to get rid of the so-called devil.”

“Awful.” Luna said, with fake disbelief.

“Bloody horrible!” Jaskier asserted, not catching her tone. “Anyway, that's how I met the great White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia.” he said with a flare that was all a Bard. “How did the pair of you meet?” he asked, raising the empty pitcher of ale to the barman, and giving a nod.

“He saved me from a Kikimora.” Luna answered, handing a coin to the barmaid as she refilled the pitcher.

“Really?” Jaskier's eyes shined with a new opportunity.

“Yes, I was out for a walk when I was attacked by it, and Geralt was luckily in hearing range of it to kill it in time, then helped nurse me back to health.”

“Geralt? A nurse?” His voice was skeptical, but enthralled.

“A good one at that.” Luna assured him. “You wanna teach me the Toss a Coin song?” she asked.

“Can you sing?” Jaskier asked, leveling an eyebrow at her.

“Can you play that lute?” Luna countered.

“I can see why you and Geralt get along so well, and are destine for each other.” Jaskier commented, picking his lute up from the bench beside him. “Let's hit some scales, Luna of Rivia.” he said, strumming the instrument's strings.


	8. Spilled Water

“Oh, Geralt!” Jaskier called, coming around the Tavern from the ally and seeing the Witcher tying Roach to the rail, it had to be well past midnight by then. “Glad to see you still alive...soaking...but alive.”

“Where's Luna?” the Witcher demanded, looking to where the Bard appeared.

“Oh, she's fine!” Jaskier answered, clearly smashed. “She is a remarkable woman, Geralt. I have to give you credit where credit is due, as you once said. She's an absolute riot, especially once you get a few pints into her...”

Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the collar before he lost his balance and fell face first into the muck of the street. “What are you talking about, Jaskier? Out with it.”

“I'm talking about her being alright...more than alright.” Jaskier answered, wavering. “She has the most...incredible voice, I've ever hear.” he said in a dreamy way. “Other than myself, of course.” he added. “If you don't believe me, Geralt, go have a listen for yourself, she had just started to pipe up another song as I came out here to piss.”

Frowning at the closed tavern door, he could hear the sound of song coming from inside. Still holding Jaskier by the collar, Geralt dragged the inebriated Bard back into the Tavern. He dropped Jaskier into a chair, seeing Luna sitting atop the table they occupied before he left, several people crowded around her, tapping their feet and nodding their heads as they stared at her in awe, her voice captivating them. His head tilted to the side, and he forgot the throbbing of his body, the claw mark to his side and being uncomfortably wet inside his leather armor.

“She was no more afraid  
For to walk in the shade,  
Nor yet in those valleys below:  
Nor to hear the fond tale  
Of the sweet nightingale,  
As she sung in those valleys below,...”

Luna caught sight of Geralt, and held his eyes with her own, sparkling with emotion. She continued the song, looking only at him, only singing to him, until she finished. Realizing she wasn't going to sing again, the crowd dispersed back to their tables and corners, commenting on her voice. Geralt stepped up to her, still awestruck himself.

“I had....” he started to speak.

“I don't do it often.” she answered for him. “I figured it pass the time better than sitting here and getting drunk with Jaskier.” she chuckled, seeing the Bard bent over a table and sound asleep on his arms.

“How much have you had?” Geralt asked, seeing three empty ale pitchers on the table behind her.

“The one we had, the one after that, and half of a third.” She told him. “Jaskier did most of the drinking, though. I had him teach me Toss a Coin to Your Witcher, as well.” she smirked. “Did you dispatch the monster in the lake?” she asked.

“Quite.” Geralt nodded, lifting his arm and grimacing at the wound to his side.

“Geralt.” Luna gasped, seeing the deep gashes to his side, she made him turn sideways to look closer at it.

“They are slippery little shits.” He commented, wincing as she touched the wound.

“Come upstairs with me, I'll patch you up.” she said, sliding off the table and heading upstairs to the room she'd rented for them. Helping him peel off his wet armor and lining it along the roaring fireplace to dry, Luna put her attention to Geralt's wound, wincing herself at it.

“A few stitches should do the trick.” he told her, biting into his bottom lip as she pushed the skin together. “It'll heal in a few days.”

Nodding, Luna went and rummaged through her bag for the thread and needle she had in there in case of this or torn clothing. Geralt pulled a small flask of spirits from his own bag and downed it, before sitting down on the little stool by the fire, so Luna could stitch him up. She crushed up a few herbs she'd taken from Marcus's study before they left and mixed it with a bit of Lavender oil and carefully applied it to the wound and stitches, to help keep it clean and reduce the chance of infection. Geralt cupped her cheek in one hand, making their eyes meet as she knelt beside him.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

“Of course.” she smiled, turning her face into his hand and pressed her lips to his palm.

His fingers brushed through her hair, his skin tingling under its softness.

“You should rest, Geralt.” she told him, standing up and going to pull the blankets down on the bed.

“I don't want to rest.” he told her, voice husky.

Luna turned her head at him, blushing, grinning and licking her lips, he had a dark look to his eyes, and it shot straight through her. “Lay down, I'll help you rest.” she whispered, taking a step away from the bed.

Listening, Geralt stood up, gingerly, and laid down in bed, his eyes never leaving hers once. Luna sat on the edge of the bed beside him, her hand rested on his chest and warmed, chasing the cold that settled into him after having to dive into the lake to get a hold of the Drowned Dead creature, and easing the discomfort from the wound on his side. She circled her fingertips against the skin of his chest, staring at him, his eyes blinking more and more often as they grew heavy.

“I love you, Geralt of Rivia.” she whispered, before he finally tipped off into sleep.

Smiling and chuckling, Luna stood up and pulled the blankets over him. She checked on his armor and turned them over so they could dry the rest of the way, tucked the herbs, needle and thread back into her pack and pulled off her own clothing to get into her shift. She slid easily into bed, beside Geralt, brushing his hair out of his face and kissing the corner of his mouth, gently, so she didn't wake him and laid down, snuggling against him and falling off to sleep herself. She gasped through her nose, something pressed to her mouth and tickling her face, making her eyes fly open and look up at Geralt as he pulled away, his hair loose over his shoulders.

“Geralt.” she whispered, about to scold him for being awake.

“Shhh..” he hushed her, pressing his lips to hers again, his hands pushing up into her shift. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, making her straddle him.

“Geralt.” she panted again. “Underwear.” she moaned, as he squeezed her breasts in his hands.

“Not...an issue.” he panted back, dropping his hands to her underwear and tearing them off, tossing them into the oblivion of the floor.

“I don't think I brought another pair of those, Geralt.” she scolded him anyway.

“All the easier to access.” he said in a hoarse voice, gripping her hips and pushing her up.

“Naughty Witcher.” she laughed, high and clear, reaching between them to where his heavy cock rested against his belly, and took a hold of him.

Luna lined him up, and Geralt slowly eased her back down, watching himself slowly be engulfed in her, his eyes turning a fiery gold. Luna wiggled in his lap, adjusting and settling him a fraction deeper, feeling her core tingle and twinge with pleasure of him inside of her. Geralt pulled her down to him, kissing her with a heated hunger and pulling her hair free from its braid, letting it cascade over her shoulders and curtain them both like spilling milk. Carefully pressing her knees to the bed on either side of Geralt and using that leverage to slowly pull all but his tip out, feeling the precum weeping from him and making his shaft slick as she took him back in. Geralt wrapped some of her hair around his fingers and pressed it to his nose as she kissed at his neck, taking in her scent of Sunflowers and Cedarwood. He let her hair go as she sat up, bracing her hands against his broad chest, quickening her paces as he gripped her hips again, helping her drive herself deeper each time. Luna ripped off her shift, growing hot, and dropped her head back, her body heaving, caught up and drowning in their passion. Geralt's nails dug deep into the sensitive skin of her hips, unintentionally breaking the skin and making her tighten around him in response.

“Geralt.” she moaned, tipping into a mode fueled purely by him and passion.

“Luna.” He called, winded and feeling the warm air of the room brush his back. 

Luna opened her eyes, and found they floated a foot or two off the bed, in her response to losing herself, her magic seeped out as well, startling her for a moment.

“It's alright.” Geralt assured her, feeling her magic falter as they dropped a sudden inch; holding her tighter and giving her the feeling of being grounded by his touch. He felt her regain control and her movements become confident again. “Wait,” he gulped. “Wait, Luna.” he whispered to her, feeling her orgasm wash over her and her magic slowly rest them back on the bed.

Luna slowed, but still throbbing and making it hard for her to be still. Geralt thrusted his hips up into her several more times, making her cry out with each one that connected to her still sensitive core. He pulled almost out of her and came, spilling into her and watching it mix with her own, and gush out around him, making his abdomen and her thighs slick and sticky with it. Luna laid down on top of him, exhausted and numb. She lighted her fingers over the stitched wound at his side, feeling Geralt's pounding heart slow down again against her breast, and feeling Geralt smell and twist her hair around his fingers.

“I've never done that before.” she whispered against his side.

“What?” Geralt asked, chuckling. “Ride someone.” he teased.

“No, float.” she answered, moving to fold her arms on his chest and rest her head upon them. “Marcus tried to teach me how to levitate things once, but I never managed to get it very far.”

Geralt licked his lips, pressing his head back against the pillow. “Can you levitate anything else, now?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling. “Besides us, I mean.”

“I-I don't know.” she frowned at him.

She looked around and spotted the ewer of water on the beside table, focusing on it, she said the spell Marcus had told her to use all that long ago, and to her immense surprise, the silver pitcher rose off the bed stand.

“That's a yes.” Geralt said, as stunned as she was.

Their room door banged open and the pitcher crashed to the bedside table and spilled water all over the floor. Geralt turned his body, shielding Luna's naked body from their intruder, and yanking the blankets over her before getting up to kill whoever it was, but stopped seeing who it was, and relaxed.

“God damn it, Jaskier! Don't you know how to fucking knock.” he barked at the Bard, who supported himself on the door jam.

“Well, I knocked on the last two doors and they earned me two punches in the gut for knocking, so I figured I just barge into them for now on, until I found you, Geralt.” The Bard told him, then noticed Luna in bed. “Oh, Hello, Luna.” he smiled, drunkenly.

“Hi.” she blushed, madly and covered her head with the blanket.

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Geralt demanded, impatient and bothered by the change in Luna's powers.

“You know, I knew the answer to that, until you asked me.” Jaskier answered, frowning as he thought hard about what it was he was going to say once he did find the Witcher.

Geralt rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Luna as she poked her head out from under the blanket. 

“Is he always like this?” she asked.

“Drunk, sober. It's always Jaskier.” He told her, raising an eyebrow at the Bard.

“Oh right, that's what it was.” Jaskier chimed in, holding up a finger as if he could hold the thought there. “There's a fellow down below, in the bar that is, looking for a Witcher.” he informed Geralt, with a look of accomplishment.

“Hm.” Geralt pressed his lips together, unimpressed. “Tell him, he can wait. I have something a bit more important at the moment.” he said, standing up and shoved Jaskier into the hall, slamming the door shut and locking it for measure.

“Shouldn't you go down and talk to him, Geralt?” Luna asked, coming out from under the blankets, her cheeks still warm with embarrassment.

“He can wait.” he told her, getting back into bed with her. “You can not.”

“I can too.” she assured him. “I'll be fine here. I might even get a chance at sleep.” she chuckled, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Your powers...”

“I levitated us, in the heat of passion,” Luna sighed. “and a ewer of water.” she added, looking at the wet spot on the floor. “It's not like I'm going to magically combust while you're away.” she tried to lighten his mood.

“Stay here, while I'm gone.” Geralt told her, brushing the pad of his fingers over her lips. “I'll have the innkeeper being you food, it's safer for you in here, anyway.” he said, pulling back to get dressed, his armor still slightly damp.

“I won't go anywhere, I promise.” She told him, watching him secure his armor. “Too tired to do much of anything, to start with.”

“Good.” Geralt said, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

Luna watched after him and stared at the door, even after it closed. Sighing, she rolled over and buried her face into his pillow, taking in the lingering scent of him and their love making and letting it lull her back to sleep. She didn't touch the food that the innkeeper's wife brought her, thanked her for refilling the spilled ewer of water and burrowed herself into the mattress. Worry for Geralt's safety and her apparent growing powers, consuming her every thought and feeling, taking any energy she had or could produce. She was afraid of what power she might gain, floating and levitating things was child's play to numerous mages. But it was the proof of a opening gateway to her, proving to her that now that she and Geralt linked each other together there was going to be something more involved in finding out what she was newly capable of. She had dismissed Marcus's worry over it, and Geralt's worry over it, and it made her nauseous to realize just how right they were.

When Geralt returned, unharmed this go around, he found her curled up in bed, still naked from their love making and asleep, food untouched on the small table in the corner and the fire all but gone out. “Luna.” he called, pulling his armor off and dumping it on top of their bags. “Hey.” he whispered, sitting on the bed beside her and brushing her hair out of her face, her eyes flickering open. “Are you feeling well?” he asked, quietly.

“She's been mostly asleep all day.” Jaskier called from the open door. “I came to check on her a few hours ago, when I didn't hear anything from you, or her.” he explained, when Geralt lifted a questioning eyebrow.

Geralt nodded, looking down at Luna. “Thank you, Jaskier.”

The Bard nodded, taking a hold of the door handle and closing the door, leaving the two in peace.

“Tell me, what's wrong?” he asked her, resting her head in his lap.

“I'm just tired.” she told him.

Geralt nodded, stroking her hair. “We rode a long way, especially for this time of year.” he said, lifting the blanket from her body, seeing a small stain of blood, noticing that the scabbing from her Kikimora wound had cracked and opened. “I should have let you sleep last night, instead of allowing my want of you to overcome me. It's barely been over a week since your attack, you're still healing.”

“And scared.”

If it wasn't for Geralt's sensitive ears, he'd never have heard her say it. “Of what, Luna?” he asked, worry grasping his heart. “You know I will never allow anything, anywhere, to hurt you.”

“Can you promise me that, for myself?” she asked, blankly, picking at a loose thread in his pants.

“I don't need to protect you, from yourself, Luna.” he said, stroking her hair. “You won't do anything to hurt yourself.” Then, it dawned on him what she'd meant. “Luna.” he sighed, turning to rest against the headboard and pulled her between his legs. “It's new and scary, I know. But, you're not alone. I'm right here with you, I'll be here through whatever it is these new powers of yours do, or don't do.”

“Hopefully not to the detriment of us both.” she frowned, depressed.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Geralt held her as tightly as he could without harming her, and stayed that way with her for a little while, before coaxing her to eat some of the food brought to her, while he went downstairs to pay for another night in their room. When he came back up, he helped her into some clothing and ushered her down the hall, into another room, with a deep tub of steaming water. Getting her out of her clothes and into the water, Geralt took up the sponge from a small shelf and the soap beside it, dipping them both into the water. He gently bathed her and washed her hair, with such a care and gentleness, that Witchers were accused of not possessing. When he finished, he slipped out of his clothing and into the tub behind her, letting her rest back against him, and both relaxing the most they had in days.

“I love you, Luna of Rivia.” he whispered into her wet and fragment hair.

“And I love you, Geralt of Rivia.” she whispered back, drawing lazy patterns atop his forearm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Luna sings at the start of the chapter is called "Sweet Nightingale" an old Cornish folk song


	9. Two Destinies

“You have to keep your side protected, Luna.” Geralt scolded her as he touched her side with the flat of his sword...for a fourth time. “Come on, again.” he said, raising his weapon again, as she picked up his spare.

Geralt took a step forward again, swinging his sword above his head and down at Luna, who blocked it and stepped to the side as he brought it back around. She let the sword turn in her hand so the tip pointed to the ground, and gripped it just in time for Geralt to strike it, stopping him from hitting her in the side again. He smiled, proudly at her, but moved to hit her again. Almost as by instinct, Luna twisted the sword and caught it in her other hand, bring it up, gripping both hands around the hilt, and blocked his swipe, the blades ringing in the fresh air. Geralt looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise at her move, she held the same expression before her face burst into an excited and giddy grin.

“That was incredible!” Jaskier clapped, having watched them sword play for the last while. “Give her a bit more practice, Geralt, and she could kick your ass, easy.”

“Hm.” Geralt grunted, pushing off her blade. “One more time, then we'll eat.”

Nodding, Luna raised the sword again, expecting Geralt to do the same moves he'd been teaching her with for the last week, since they left Barefield and she'd asked him to teach her one night as he sharpened the blades. But, he didn't. He took a different stance and was advancing on her before her mind could comprehend what was happening. All the same though, she blocked his blade, moved back, forward or to the side, pushing his blade out of the way, feebly. She managed to get the upper hand and push him back. But, as he took the two steps back, Geralt raised his hand, pointing out his first three fingers and sent a blast of energy at her hand, knocking the sword out of it.

“That's cheating, Geralt!” Luna protested, looking at him, angry.

“You can't always expect your opponent to fight fair, Luna.” He told her, sternly, bending down and picking up the fallen sword.

“It's not like I'm ever going to fight someone with a fucking sword, Geralt.” she pouted, dropping down on the fallen log by the fire. “Other than you.”

“You don't know that, Luna.” he replied, softer. “But, you're doing well. You're a quick learner, and that's important.” He told her, sitting next to her, leaning his shoulder against hers and tipping his head to look into her face. “I'm proud of you.”

A smile crept over her flushed face, pressing her shoulder back. “Thank you.” she whispered back. “You're a good teacher.”

“So, what's the next stop on the journey, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, tearing a chunk of meat off the spit roasting over the fire.

“I don't know.” Geralt shrugged, taking a piece of meat Luna pulled off and shared with him. “There's more monsters down south this time of year. I've been thinking about going back to Nazair, they always have an interesting monster and pest problem.”

“How long will it take us to travel there?” Luna asked, munching on the roasted meat.

“Another week,” Geralt replied. “Maybe two, depending on the weather.” he added, looking up at the threatening sky, it had already rained on them twice since they left Barefield.

“That's not awful.” Luna said, cheerfully; someone had to sound up beat about it, she figured.

Geralt huffed, smiling at her. “Not at all.”

“Are you coming too, Jaskier?” she asked the Bard, tossing a bone into the fire.

“Oh, I don't know.” Jaskier answered, laying on his side by the fire. “I do miss the Countess.”

“Did you two fight again?” Geralt asked, gruffly.

“Yes.” He frowned, pulling at blades of grass beside him. “She says I have no maturity for commitments.”

Luna almost fell off the log, laughing so hard. “I can only assume why she gets that feeling.” she giggled, Geralt pressing his hand to her back to keep her upright as she howled, amused.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean!” Jaskier snapped, wounded.

“You take days before you can decide if one word matched with an entire riff,” Luna explained, still shaking with unspent laughter. “You take _hours_ to decide if a shirt looks good on you or not...”

“Okay, okay! I get the point.” The Bard gave in, his bottom lip puffing out as he tossed the broken blades into the fire. “What am I supposed to do, then?” he asked, looking at her for entreaty.

“Do you love her?” She asked, growing serious.

“Of course.”

“Do you enjoy being with her?”

“Absolutely!”

“Is every song you want to compose inspired by her in someway?”

Jaskier took a moment to think it over, and slowly nodded. “Yes, yes they are.”

Luna shrugged one shoulder and nodded. “Then, tell her that.” she told him. “In words, not songs.”

“There's a difference?” he asked, looking at her across the flames.

“Yes.” she said, giving him a pointed eyebrow and look.

“Then, I will!” he proclaimed. “I'll go as far as Rinde with you both, and return to the Countess.”

“Hopefully, she takes you back.” Geralt commented, grinning impishly.

– –

Geralt and Luna parted ways with Jaskier a few days later, wishing him luck on wooing the Countess back into his arms, and continued on to Nazair. They stopped in a tiny town just outside Sodden a day or so later, when Geralt was contacted with a monster issue in a nearby refugee camp.

“Let me come with you, Geralt.” Luna begged as he packed one of Roach's bags for the job.

“No, Luna.” He repeated again, closing the bag up and looking over the horse's back at her. “It's too dangerous. If these creatures are what I think they are. One bite will kill you.”

“Or you.” she countered, a look of desperation on her face, not wanting him to go into such a dangerous place.

“Now, Luna.” He sighed, walking around to her. “I've dealt with far worse and dangerous. It's my job as a Witcher. I'll be alright.” he tried to reassure her.

“You always say that.”

“And I always come back, safely.” he told her, taking her hand in his. “Minus a few scrapes and bruises.”

“and a broken finger dealing with that ugly aghoul.” She reminded him.

Geralt grinned, touched by her worry at this point. “I still came back to you, so you could nurse my various wounds, didn't I?” he reasoned with her.

Luna pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes, beaten. “Fine.” she whispered, giving up.

“Good.” Geralt replied, relieved and kissing her forehead. “I'll be back in a day or so. Stay here.” he told her, pulling himself into Roach's saddle. “If I don't come back the morning of the third day, I want you to go back and find Jaskier, stay with him until I get you.”

She wanted to protest, and ask him what she was supposed to do if he didn't come back at all, but she swallowed it back and nodded, obediently. “I will.” she promised.

Geralt smiled at her and turned Roach down the road towards the refugee camp.

“Just come back to me.” she whispered after him.

– –

Geralt made it to the destroyed refugee camp, finding bodies laying everywhere and an older man, dragging one of them into a pile. “Ill winds follow grave robbers.” he commented, getting the man's attention.

“If I was a grave robber, I'd be taking their belongings, butcher.” he answered, dropping the body and moving to another.

“If I was a butcher, you'd be amongst the corpses.” Geralt replied, looking around them.

“I was going home to my family, when I came upon these poor souls. Cintran refugees. Dead at least a week. Now, they're a feast for the crows.”

“Not crows.” Geralt growled, looking up into the trees.

“Wolves?”

“No.”

“With two hands, I could move quicker.” the man said, dragging yet another body into the pile.

“The only thing you should do quickly is flee.” Geralt told him, feeling uneasy.

“Look at these people.” the man protested. “Innocent people, killed for what? So, Nilfgaard can have more land. We owe it to them, to do better.” he grunted with effort.

“I'm not better.” Geralt growled, watching him.

The old man ignored him and continued on his task, not noticing the ground behind him slowly rise up until two zombie like creatures emerge from the soil and attacked him. He screamed and struggled as Geralt got off Roach, grabbing his sword and slayed them. He knelt by the man, his sword resting against his arm, eyes black from a potion.

“Go home.” He warned the man.

“I can help.” he offered Geralt.

“I don't need your help.”

“One bite and it could kill you.”

“Or you.” Geralt rasped, standing up. “Go...home!” he warned one last time.

The man struggled to his feet and made off to his horse and cart as Geralt stepped further into the camp, his necklace and senses telling him there was more coming. He swung as his sword as one flew at him, cleaving it in half. Another tunneled under to him, and he pierced his sword through the ground as it reached him, killing it. Several more jumped on him, almost overwhelming him, as he struggled to fight them off, kicking one, twisting the heads of others until their necks broke or separating their heads and necks altogether before finally defeating them all. He stood, swayed, and took a step forward, a sharp pain shot up his leg. Looking down, he saw the rip in his pants and the nasty bite mark in his thigh.

“Fuck.” he groaned, staggering and limping to his sword and pulling it from the ground. He walked several more steps before his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees with a grunt of pain, and sighed. “Not a happy ever after, after all. A fitting end...huh, Roach.” he panted.

“Luna's going to kill me.” he said, falling face first to the ground and blacking out.

– –

Luna paced her room at the inn were Geralt had left her. The morning of the third day came and passed into the early afternoon. She knew she promised Geralt that if he hadn't returned by then, she'd go find Jaskier, but she couldn't. She knew something bad had happened, she didn't know how to explain that she did, but it was set deep inside her bones. Saddling up Charlie, Luna asked for directions and rode out to the campsite. It was empty, minus the dilapidated tents and bodies, no sign of Geralt or Roach.

“Geralt!” she called, dismounting and looking around, stumbling over something under the leaves. Bending down, she saw the tip of Geralt's sword's cross guard. “Shit.” she panicked, picking it up, it was heavier than the one he let her use when they sword played.

She looked around the camp for any sign of him, and only found the tracks of a cart leading away from the camp. Taking the sword back with her to Charlie and tying it to his straps, Luna mounted him again and followed the tracks through the camp and out onto a worn rode. Looking through the trees she could see the keep of Sodden in the distance, but kept her eyes on the road, riding Charlie as hard as she could. She'd ridden all night and into the morning by the time she came upon a squat log cabin with a cart in front and Roach tied to the back.

“Where did you get that, horse?” Luna demanded, jumping off Charlie before he came to a full halt and a man and woman, with a young boy came out of the house.

“Luna!” Geralt's voice reached her through the trees.

“Geralt!” She called, running after his voice. “Oh gods, Geralt.” she could have collapsed with relieve seeing him limping towards her, and didn't stop until they collided, almost taking them off their feet.

“What are you doing here?” Geralt panted, cupping her face. “I told you to go to Jaskier, if I didn't make it back.” he scolded her, meaninglessly. “How did you find me?”

“I felt something was wrong and I couldn't just leave.” she explained. “I found your sword at the refugee camp, but not you or Roach, so I followed the tracks until they brought me here.” she looked him over, seeing the bandage tied around his thigh. “What happened to you?”

“One of the creatures bit me.” he told her. “But, my m...I'm fine now, Luna.” he assured her, pressing her against his chest.

“Geralt?” a quiet voice called behind the Witcher.

Luna frowned up at him and looked around him, seeing a girl in a blue cape standing a few feet away. She looked back up at Geralt, question in her eyes.

“Luna, this is...Ciri.” he said, turning sideways. “Ciri, this is Luna.”

“Is she..” Luna asked, looking at him surprised.

“My Child Surprise.” he nodded.

She gulped and blinked. “Well, um...hello.” she said, looking at the girl.

“Hello.” Ciri replied back, looking as startled as Luna. “Is the other one here too?” she asked, looking at Geralt.

“What other one?”

“Yennifer.”

A cold spike went down Luna's back. “No, she's not.”

“She must be getting ready, then.” she said, still looking at Geralt.

“For what Cirilla?” Geralt frowned.

“The battle in Sodden, I had a vision of it, and the lady at the cabin says there's mages there.” Ciri explained. “Nilfgaard is trying to take it.”

“We have to help them, Geralt.” Luna stammered, overwhelmed by the sudden need too, feeling the tug of something calling to her.

Geralt looked between Luna and Ciri and felt himself stuck between a rock and hard place. “You have my sword?” he asked Luna. “And Roach.”

“Yes, your sword is with Charlie, and both him and Charlie at the couple's farm down there.” she nodded.

“Alright then.” he sighed, readying himself. “Let's go and see what we can do to help.”


	10. Battle of Sodden

“Geralt of Rivia.” Yennifer called, walking through the gates at the Sodden fort. “And company.” she added, looking over Luna and Ciri. “What brings the Famous White Wolf to Sodden.”

“We heard you and several other mages were here, to defend Sodden.” Geralt answered, a deep unease settling in his chest. “We came to offer our help.”

“A Witcher, a woman and a child...” she looked amused and skeptical.

“You look like a woman yourself.” Luna replied, with an edge in her voice.

“Don't let that fool you, sweetheart.” Yennifer answered, the same edge in hers.

“Don't like mine fool you either, love.” Luna countered, struggling to keep the expression of dislike off her face.

“Luna.” Geralt warned, for more of his own sake then both women's. “Luna is a mage, as well.” he explained, looking back at Yennifer. “Ciri is my Child Surprise.”

“Come to use her as Bruxa bait, then?”

“No, I had nowhere else to leave her.” Geralt answered, his hand tightening. “Do you want the help or not?”

“N-”

“Yennifer, who are these people.” Tissaia's voice called, as she came to the gate.

“Geralt!” Triss smiled, coming up behind her.

Luna slowly turned her head to him, giving him an ' _are you kidding_ ' look, but Geralt ignored it.

“I am Geralt of Rivia.” He introduced himself to the Rectress. “That's Luna and Ciri. Luna and I come to offer our help to you against Nilfgaard.” he explained.

“What use are you?” Tissaia asked.

“I'm handy with a sword. And Luna,” he smiled at the woman. “Is incredibly handy with magic.”

“Are you?” She asked, looking over at Luna.

“Do you want a demonstration?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Not needed.” Tissaia said, simply. “I can feel it.” She looked back to Geralt. “We'll take your help. You can take the child inside with the rest of the families. She'll be safe there.” she assured him, going back inside.

Geralt and Yennifer exchanged looks before she followed Tissaia. Geralt handed Ciri into the hands of Triss, who ushered her away to safety. “I don't feel good about this, Luna.” He told her, following her inside.

“About helping, or being stuck in the fort with me and Yennifer?” she asked, looking at the refugees preparing for the upcoming battle.

“Both.” he said, looking at them too.

“I promise we won't try and kill each other until after the battle.” She said, trying to sound humorous, but couldn't get it quite reach her voice.

Geralt caught her hand. “You have nothing to worry about, Luna.” he told her, sensing her issue.

“We'll find out, won't we.” she said softly, squeezing his hand before going off to find something useful to do.

They spent hours preparing the best they could for the up coming battle with Nilfgaard, which wasn't much with a rag tag group of mages, warriors and tired refugees. Luna stood in the middle of the fort, sipping the piss ale someone had offered her, when Yennifer approached her.

“Are you and Geralt together?” she asked, bluntly.

Luna raised her eyebrows at the violet eyed mage as she downed the rest of the ale. “Yes.” she answered, setting the mug down on a low stone wall. “We are.”

“Hm.” Yennifer frowned, looking Luna over. “I bet that's ending up disappointing, him dragging you here to help an old flame of his.”

“It was Ciri's and my idea, actually.” Luna told her, plainly.

“Oh really?”

“Mmhmm.” Luna smiled, tightly, then turned on her heels as Geralt came up behind them. “How's it going?” she asked, needing the change in conversation.

“As well as it can.” he answered, eyeing the two women.

“How are the other men?” Yennifer asked, eyeing Geralt back.

Geralt sighed, tired. “We'll find out, when the fighting starts.” Then, frowned at Luna, seeing her body language change.

“What's wrong with her?” Yennifer asked, looking at her like she was a broken doll.

“Luna?” Geralt rested his hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

Luna looked up at him shocked and mute. She couldn't work the words out of her mouth, so she took off up the stairway to the top of the gate keep wall, Geralt and Yennifer hot on her feet as she leaned over the stone wall, looking out over the vast and empty hill side to a single rider a top it. She shuttered and let out a shaky breath.

“Is that...” Geralt started to ask, feeling it in his stomach.

“Does she know who that rider is, Geralt?” Yennifer asked, staring at the rider with them.

“Yes.” Luna whispered, silently. “It's my twin brother.” she gulped.

“Your twin?” Yennifer snapped, looking at Luna with shock and disgust. “Your twin is a Nilfgaardian?”

Luna nodded her head, slowly turning her head to look up at Geralt. “It seems the day has finally come, Geralt.”

The three of them stood there, staring at the rider on the hill, like he was the omen from hell they'd been hoping wouldn't appear. Steeling herself, Luna turned and started for the stairs, but Geralt reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm, pulling her back to him.

“No, Luna.” he whispered, searching her eyes.

“Geralt, I have too. You know that, I know that and he knows that.” she told him, softly. “He knows I'm here, now. I have to finish it with him, or it's not going to end well for the people inside these walls.”

“It's not going to end well, to start with.” Geralt protested, gripping her arm tighter. “I promised Marcus...”

“I know what you promised him.” she silenced him. “and you promised me as well. To protect me and keep me safe, always.” her stomach quailed and her eyes misted over. “But, you can not do that here, not like that. It's I who needs to protect you, and everyone else here. Look at them, Geralt.” she said, casting her arm out to the people below them. “They are inexperienced, tired and full of revenge, and none of that revenge will sustain them.” Luna cupped his face in her hands and pressed their foreheads together. “I have to do this.”

Geralt squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against hers more. “If anything happens to you,” he said, opening his eyes and looking into hers. “I will kill him.” he swore.

“I would expect nothing less of you, Geralt.” Luna told him, evenly. “I love you.”

“I love you.” he whispered back, letting her go.

Luna looked to Yennifer, who hadn't taken her eyes off either of them, and nodded her head at her. Yennifer returned her nod, understanding where both of them stood at that point. With a whoosh, Luna was gone, portaling herself out of the fort.

“She can portal now, too.” Geralt muttered more to himself than Yennifer.

“You love her.” Yennifer whispered, her mouth open, not hearing what he'd said. “You truly love her.”

Geralt looked over Yennifer's head to the black dot of the rider in the distance. “I do.” he answered, bringing his eyes back to hers. “A lot.”

– –

“Brother!” Luna called, popping up behind him.

Nicolas turned his horse towards her and leaned forward against the pummel. “Sister.” he grinned. “Surprised to find you here, run away from ol' Marcus?”

“Marcus is dead, and you know it.” Luna answered, her voice cold.

“Ah, Oron thought it would spur you into joining us, if he sent one of his assassins to kill him.” Nicolas sighed, pulling his helmet off. “I suppose that didn't work out since you were in the fort.”

“Not in the fucking slightest.” she shot back. “So, you and Nilfgaard can fuck right off and leave Sodden, alone.”

“Come now, you're missing all the fun, Luna.” He taunted her. “We can have so much together if we served Nilfgaard together, but you for some god awful reason, choose to side against us, and with that damned Witcher, to boot.”

“Leave Geralt out of this, Nik.” she entreated him. “This is between you and me. Not Marcus or Geralt. Not even between Nilfgaard and its enemies.”

“You're right, it is between us.” he said, pulling a sword from beside his saddle. “So, let's get it over with, shall we? I have a fort to help capture.” he hopped off his horse and pushed it back in the direction of the Nilfgaard camp.

Luna looked beyond her brother, in the direction the horse fled, and saw the line of warriors and mages, making their way to start the attack and could only pray Geralt and Ciri were safe. She set her eyes back to him, as he advanced towards her. Taking a steady breath, she felt that heavy weight of a sword materialize into her hand, causing Nicolas to falter a step.

“So, you fulfilled your destiny with him.” he said, surprised.

“I did.” she nodded, gripping the sword in her hand and letting Geralt's voice flow through her mind, remembering all his instructions.

“It's a shame all that power will be wasted.” Nicolas frowned, circling her.

“I doubt it.”

“You any good with that blade?”

“I'm a quick learner.” she retorted.

Laughing, Nicolas charged her. Luna easily knocked his blade away and stepped aside. They circled each other again, their eyes never breaking from each others, even during each thrust and swing. Him nicking her side in one hit and the shoulder with another. Nicolas hissed as Luna's blade sliced into his thigh, both of their blades sticking into the wet earth, and tried to get their blade up first.

' _You can't always expect your opponent to fight fair_.' Geralt's voice rang out in her mind, and she pulled back enough to kick Nicolas's legs out from under him and stubble back away from him, watching him scramble onto his knee and rest against his sword, glaring at her as spit dripped from his mouth.

“We don't have to do this, Nik.” she begged him. “We can be on two sides. We can come to a common ground, somehow.”

“No, we can't.” he growled, pulling himself up. “One of us is going to die her, sister.” he told her, raising his sword again.

“Nicolas, please.” she implored him, squeezing her eyes shut and tensing her body as she pushed memories to him in their bond; their childhood before their parents died, playing together in the garden of the Manor.

“Ah! Stop doing that!” Nicolas cursed, swinging his sword wildly at her.

Luna deflected each of his swings, stumbling back.

“You think you're the only one that can do that!” he growled, resting on his sword again and pushing his own memories onto her; finding out about their parents' death, the loneliness of the Manor, even with her there with him, and meeting Oron for the first time.

“None of this is going to change my mind!” Luna barked, swinging at him.

Nicolas threw himself back as her blade came near him, but didn't move fast enough as it cut through his armour, clothing and skin, making him fall out on the ground. Luna stood, panting and staring at him wide eyed, shocked at the sight of his blood pouring from his body, from wounds she dealt him.

“Nikki...” she whimpered, stumbling towards him, but stopped in her tracks as Oron arrived.

“Well, well.” he smiled at her, glancing between her and Nicolas. “You've gotten a great deal stronger than I anticipated, Luna.”

“This is your fault.” Luna frowned at him, to exhausted to feel the hatred towards him she should. “You did this, you pulled him away from me, and now he's dead.”

“Life is for the fit, my child.” Oron grinned.

Luna charged him, but Oron simple stepped aside and grasped a fist full of her hair.

“I'll give you one more chance, Luna.” he said, throwing her to the ground. “Join me and Nilfgaard, or die.”

“Go fuck yourself!” Luna spit on his boots.

“Remember, it was your choice.” he said, leveling his sword to her throat.

“NO!”

– –

Geralt and Yennifer stood fighting Nilfgaardian soldiers out the front gate when a huge boom sounded from the hills up ahead. Everyone alike stopped what they were doing to see a huge bubble of magic energy spread across the horizon, then suck back in to the ground, making it shake like a mighty earthquake beneath their feet.

“Luna.” Geralt's eyes grew wide with panic.

“Was that from her!” Yennifer yelled to him.

“It had to be!” Geralt yelled back, burying his sword into the soldier in front of him as they regained themselves, and took off for the hill.

Yennifer crushed the two in front of her and ran after him. When they finally managed to reach the top of the hill, all that was there was Luna laying out in the grass, Nicolas's sword and a lot of blood. Geralt dropped to his knees beside her, pressing his hand to her wounded shoulder.

“Geralt, we don't have time for this!” Yennifer yelled to him, killing a Nilfgaardian coming out of the woods. “They're coming!” she struck down another before opening a portal. “Take her out of here!”

“I can't leave Ciri.” Geralt barked, looking back to the fort.

“I'll take care of Ciri, you take care of Luna.” she barked back. “Quickly, Geralt!” she screamed at him.

Geralt looked back to Yennifer before picking Luna up and just managing to get them through Yennifer's portal. He found themselves in the middle of a forest, and laid Luna down on the ground, having the sickening feel of déjà vu wash over him as he bent of her.

“Butcher?”

He looked away from Luna and saw the old man from the refugee camp. “What are the chances?” Geralt rasped, out of breath.

“What happened to her?” he asked, bending over Luna himself.

“The battle of Sodden.” Geralt told him, picking Luna back up. “I need your help, _again_.” he told him, holding her weight against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's not as much Ciri and Yen as many people would have liked, but I've got a bit of an idea where I want the next several chapters to go. But, I'm sure the two will show up again in the future, people linked by destiny always find each other.


	11. To Be Bold

“Nicolas!” Luna sat up screaming, startling Geralt out of the sleep he'd just managed to get into.

“Shush, it's fine now, Luna.” he told her, gingerly resting his hands on her shoulders and laying her back. “We're safe, and the battle is over.” he assured her.

“What happened to Nicolas, Geralt?” she panted, gripping his hand. “Did I kill him?” she couldn't remember or feel anything, but the pain throbbing through her body.

“I don't know, Luna.” Geralt told her, honestly. “When Yennifer and I reached you on that hill, it was only you, and blood.”

She laid in bed beside him, staring at the log ceiling above her, straining to remember what had happened. “How did you and Yennifer find me?” she asked, her voice far off.

“We all saw you let out a huge burst of magic.”

Luna turned her head to Geralt, sharply. “I didn't do that, Geralt. I don't think I did, at least.”

“Then, who did?”

“I don't know. I don't remember anything after I slashed Nicolas across the chest, with a sword I conjured up.”

“You conjured a sword?” Geralt asked, surprised. “and you can portal...”

“I didn't even try making that portal, it just happened when I thought about going out there to meet Nicolas.”

Geralt laid back on the bed. “Fuck.”

“How did we get here, anyway?” she asked, looking around and remembered it was the old man and woman's house from earlier.

“Yen opened a portal for us to escape.” he told her.

“And Ciri?”

“Is also safe.” he assured her. “But, you need to rest now. We both do.” he told her, carefully pulling her against him.

When both Luna and Geralt was rested enough, they returned to the small town they had stopped off at after separating from Jaskier, days earlier. Geralt had gone back to the Sodden battlefield to find Yennifer and Ciri, but only found Tissaia. She informed Geralt that after he'd left to take Luna to safety Yennifer had unleashed all her chaos on the remaining Nilfgaardians, torching the entire place before vanishing. When he demanded to know where Ciri was, Tissaia assured him his Child Surprise was in safe hands, having sent her back to Aretuza with Triss, believing it was the safest place for a girl like Cirilla and that Geralt was welcome to retrieve her from there, whenever he liked. Sighing heavily, weighted down by all the events of the last week, Geralt nodded, agreeing that for the time being Ciri would stay at Aretuza with Tissaia and Triss. After ensuring Ciri's safety, Geralt returned to Luna.

“Let me see your shoulder.” he said, standing behind her.

Rolling her eyes, Luna pulled her shirt off for him. “It's fine, Geralt.” she told him, but could feel it wasn't. “So, is that one.” she jerked, when he touched a ticklish spot by the cut Nicolas had made on her side.

“I told you about protecting your side.” He told her, touching his fingers gingerly to the stitches. “At last it wasn't' the side the Kikimora got you on.”

“Yeah, that was the side you kept getting me on, too.” she said, stiffly.

“Then, I'll make sure to start getting you on both sides.” Geralt retorted, picking up a damp cloth and dabbing at the dry blood on her shoulder, making her hiss. “Going to need a healer to look at your shoulder so it doesn't come infected. We can do they when we get to Kerack, it should be fine for that long,” he said. “If you stop picking at it.” He added, seeing where one of the stitches was loose from it.

“It itched.” Luna defended herself, pulling her shirt back on.

“That means its healing.” Geralt told her in a gruff voice. “Leave it be, or I'll tie your hands to your sides.”

“And I'm supposed to ride Charlie how, if you do that?” she asked, a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

“Trust me, It's not hard to ride a horse with your hands tied behind your back.” He told her, making sure his saddlebags were packed.

“Experienced, are we?”

“It happened to me once, during Trial of Forest Eyes.” he told her. “Vesemir tied me to a tree, blindfolded me, as well, and I had til morning to get back to Kaer Morhen.”

“He what!?” Luna exclaimed, shocked and highly amused at Geralt getting tied and blindfolded to a tree and left there all night.

“He did.” He chuckled, he'd only found the memory funny in the last couple of decades. “While I was tied to it, an elf named Aideen found me and untied me. I didn't return to Kaer Morhen at first, but followed the Elf and we ended up getting into trouble when we came across the School of Cats training,” he told her. “They're similar to my school, the School of the Wolf.” He explained, seeing her expression.

“Ah.” she smiled, nodding. “So, what happened to you and the elf?” she asked, curious about his past.

“They caught us and tied us up and tried taking us back to their school. But, Aideen managed to get away, and came back to untie me. After that, I returned to Kaer Morhen in time to pass the trial.” He sighed, satisfied with his bags. “I often wonder, every now and then, what happened to that elf.” he said, hoisting both his and Luna's bags over his shoulder. “But, that was such a lifetime ago.”

“Feels like everything was a lifetime ago.” Luna added, opening the door for him.

“The truth.” Geralt nodded, agreeing.

– –

“What did I tell you about picking at it.” Geralt admonished her, pressing a cool cloth to the angry wound on Luna's shoulder.

“I haven't been picking at it, Geralt.” Luna growled, gritting her teeth. “It's swollen, so the stitches are stretching. The infection's raving like a pissed off mage on a solstice. You're going to have to pop the stitches and get the puss out.”

“I'm not doing that.” Geralt snapped, dunking the cloth into the cold water stream they knelt by.

“A Witcher, squeamish, astounding.” She quipped, darkly.

“I'm not squeamish, if I open it it'll invite more infection.”

“And if you don't the pus will poison my blood.” she told him, smugly. “If it hasn't already.”

Geralt pressed his lips together at her, he could see that it, more than likely, already had, her face was flushed and warm despite the bitter cold whipping around them and the splashes of cold water to her face. Grunting, Geralt stood up and went to his pack, pulling out his small dagger and going back to her, he gripped her good shoulder, planting his knee carefully against her back, and with a smooth motion cut the stitches and reopened the wound. Luna howled in pain, straining against Geralt's grasp as it ripped through her, leaving her panting and cursing under her breath. Frowning at her, but sticking to the task, Geralt wiped off the blade in the stream and thrust it into his belt. He carefully pressed his fingers around the bleeding wound, watching with a grimace as her rich red blood slowly lighten in color as the milky yellow pus flowed out with it. Luna gagged at the grotesque pus smell, and just managed to miss Geralt's knee as she wrenched into the stream. He rubbed her back, as she threw up several more times, before he finished pushing out the pus and rinsed it out with a painful and eye watering splash of water.

“Christ.” She sniff at the water dripping from her face.

“We have nothing to close the wound with.” Geralt called to her, searching both their bags.

“That's fine.” Luna said, standing up. “Should let it breathe. Any pus that comes back should drain out as well, with it not being closed up. Just give me one of the bandages to wrap around it so nothing gets in it.” she told him, looking at it, grossed out.

He handed her the cloth bandage and helped her tie it securely, then boosted her up into Charlie's saddle. “You sure you can ride alone?” he asked, taking a hold of her leg to keep her in place.

“I'll be alright, Geralt.” She said, looking down at him. “If I need to stop I'll tell you.”

“You better.” He said, getting into Roach's saddle and bringing him along side her and Charlie. “You fall off that horse, and I'll make sure you don't sit for a month.” he told her, moving Roach forward.

Luna laughed, seeing his smile as he went by. “Love to see you try.” she called after him.

“Hm.” Geralt grunted in response.

Luna did manage to stay on her horse until they made it to Kerack, only having to stop several times to throw up and rest. She looked like shit by the time they did get there, she was warmer than before, her eyes red and glassy, lips dry. Geralt made her stay on Charlie while he went into the inn and asked the barkeep where the healer was. It took a threat and a coin to finally get it out of the moron's mouth, but he gave him directions to the healer's shop a couple of doors down. He pulled Luna off her horse and supported her down to it, pounding heavily on the door, he could feel the burn of her skin through the fabric of his shirt and it grow damp from the sweat on her forehead.

“Is it just me, or does it seem my health comes into question a lot with you?” Luna asked, looking up at him, red eyed.

“Hm.” He grunted, kicking the Healer's door harder, finally getting a response.

“Yes! Yes! I'm coming!” Someone shouted from inside, and yanked open the door, looking startled at Geralt first, then to Luna, startled expression going to urgent concern. “Bring her in, quickly.” he said, stepping aside and motioning for them to enter. “Lay her down on the cot over there.” he told Geralt, motioning to a single cot behind a privacy screen, and scuttling off into another room.

Geralt laid her down on the bed, wiping her damp hair from her face and just turning out of the way, as she rolled onto her side and wrenched bile all over the floor. He looked around, but found nothing. The Healer returned, with an armload of things, dropping them all on a table at the foot of the cot, and started pulling out this vial, this packet of some powder and other things, mixing them into a bowl.

“Don't worry about the throw up, Witcher.” he told Geralt, waving his hand, absently. “My maid will clean it. There's a bucket over there..” he waved to some part of the room. “she can use, if she should need to do it again.”

Geralt located the bucket and brought it to the bedside as the Healer leaned over Luna's swollen and puckered shoulder, shaking his head as he poured whatever it was he mixed into it. Luna yelled, pushing up, and cursing the Healer's mother, before Geralt pushed her back down and held her there, so the Healer could work. The Healer called his maid and had her spread open the wound as he poured more of the solution into it, Luna straining against Geralt's hand on her chest and throwing every curse at the three of them she could remember or make up. Having flushed out her wound, the Healer mixed another liquid of some sort and forced her to drink it. She held it long enough for the Healer to look pleased with himself, before throwing it all back up into the bucket. Sighing disappointed, the Healer made another batch of it, adding something for nausea, and made her drink it again. Thankfully, it stayed down this time, and Luna fell into a restless sleep.

“Is she going to be alright.” Geralt asked as the Healer fussed over his herbs.

“The infection has taken a good hold of her, Witcher.” he told him. “It's a shock she's still alive, really. Most men your size would have died from it by now, and for her size...it's a miracle. But, yes, I think she will survive. Her will is strong.” He nodded, as if assuring himself of his own capabilities, in the matter. “How did she sustain the wound?”

“In the Battle of Sodden.” Geralt told him, distractedly looking at Luna as she whimpered. He couldn't help still hearing her words before the Healer opened the door. She'd been on death's door from the Kikimora attack and now this. He should have gone with her to fight her brother, or kept them from going to Sodden in the first place. It was his fault for not protecting her well enough, and like he promised.

“It was a bloody battle, from what I heard.” The Healer said, looking at Geralt. “Many died there, but at least it still stands.” he commented. “You can move her in a few hours,” he said, glancing back to Luna. “But, I wouldn't go far with her.” he added, leaving the room.

“Geralt.” She whined in her sleep.

“I'm here, Luna.” he called to her, sitting in the stool beside her bed and taking her hand in his. “Right here.” he assured her, squeezing her hand.

Geralt did move Luna a couple hours later, having left her in the care of the Healer long enough to get a room at the inn and care for the horses, before going back and taking her to their room. He felt better having her there, with only him, but still close enough to the Healer in case she turned again. Her fever broke and the swelling around the wound reduced within several days of giving her the medicine the Healer concocted for her, but she still struggled with bouts of nausea; the Healer had promised it was just the strain from the infection on her, so he worried less about it.

“If you're in need of a bit of a distraction, Witcher.” the Healer said, handing him a small vial that was to help with nausea. “There's rumored to be a Wraith haunting the catacombs of the old castle half a days ride from here that the alderman has been trying to get someone to kill for a couple years now. I heard he's paying very decent money for it.”

Pocketing the vial, Geralt looked the Healer in the eye. “Where is your alderman, then?” he asked, tilting his head and licking his lips.

“Biggest house in town.” He told him.

“Thanks. I'll think about it.” Geralt told him, walking out.

Luna looked up as Geralt came back into their room, sitting propped up on the pillows.

“Here.” he uncorked the vial and poured it into her tea, then handed it to her. “He said this'll help with the nausea.”

“Thank you, Geralt.” she told him, taking the cup in both hands and sipping it slowly.

“I may have a job.” he told her, pacing around the room.

“Oh?” Luna raised her eyebrows at him, she knew he was restless, and feeling acutely useless against helping her feel any better. “What kind of monster?” she asked, trying to sound encouraging, and strong, enough to get Geralt to go kill whatever it was; just give him a sense of purpose again.

“A Wraith.”

“A pissed off ghost.” she smiled, weakly. “You know any good exorcism prayers?” she chuckled.

He smiled, despite the storm raging inside of him. “One.”

“Well, go get it, Father Witcher.” she teased him, taking another sip of tea.

Geralt stood at the foot of their bed and watched her, he was starting to see the woman he loved come back out of the fog and heat of being sick, which put him in immense ease. He watched for a moment longer before making up his mind. “Alright, I'll go. But, you stay in bed, unless it's an emergency. Which you shouldn't have any of, and I'll be back tomorrow.”

“As you say.” Luna assured him, smiling as she felt his excitement transfer to her. “And you be safe, I don't need you going and getting bit again.”

“They don't bite.” Geralt laughed, pulling his armor on.

“Too bad for them, cause you look delicious.” she cooed, giving him a meaningful look.

He paused, strapping the side of his armor and looked at her, eyes narrowed. A slow smile crept over his face, feeling her look bubble up his insides. Pursing his lips, he yanked his armor back off, set her tea aside, and happily humored her wish to taste him. Having satisfied her and thinking it over, he decided to humor himself and took her, before finally crawling out of bed again and dressing. He covered her up and pressed his lips to her temple as she slept, then let himself out to find the alderman and what he could about the Wraith. Luna woke later that night, alone, and her stomach raging again. Getting up, she searched for the vial but found it empty, and moaned as the cold wave on nausea wash over her. Rummaging around for her clothing, Luna went out, making her way down to the Healer's shop, knocking on the door loudly. The door opened and a older woman looked Luna over.

“Ms, are you alright?” she frowned.

“The nausea.” Luna panted.

“Oh, yes.” the maid nodded, and helped her inside, sitting her in a chair, and fetched the vial for liquid for her.

“Thank you.” Luna sighed, downing it straight. “This nausea has been killer.”

“Sadie, who is it?” the Healer called from down a hall.

“It's the young lady with the shoulder wound.” the maid called back. “The nausea's troubling her.”

The Healer came down the hall and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Might I be so bold to ask you some questions?”


	12. Gone Girl

The door to the Healer's shop kicked in and a very angry Geralt stepped through it, causing the Healer to drop the jar of herbs he was holding to the floor, his mouth dropping open at the sight of Geralt's angry face. Geralt closed the gap between them in two long strides, grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him against the wall, causing several other things to fall from a shelf and shatter on the floor.

“Where is she!” he demanded, twisting his fists in the Healer's shirt.

“Wh-who?” the Healer stammered.

“The woman I was with, the one you treated!” Geralt bark, slamming him against the wall again.

“I only saw her last night.” the Healer groaned. “She came late last night for something to ease her nausea, then left.”

“That's it?” Geralt growled, shaking with anger.

“Yes, Yes! I swear!” the poor man babbled. “I thought she went back to the Inn after she left here, I swear to you, Witcher.”

“Well, she didn't!” Geralt said, shoving off the man and letting go of him, to crumple to the floor at his feet. “She's gone, all her things are still here, her horse. The only thing missing other than her, is her clothing. It's not like her to disappear like this.” he added more to himself.

“Perhaps she got cold feet. Or-or someone took her?” The Healer suggested, not moving from his seat on the floor.

“She has no reason to have cold feet, and no one alive is stupid enough try and kidnap her knowing I'd go after her.” Geralt growled, annoyed at either suggestion, but his stomach still hurt at the thought of her leaving him because she felt her life was too endangered with him. “No, wouldn't happen.” he shook the thought from his head. “I have to find her.”

“How?” The healer called after him. “With Nilfgaard attacking everywhere and so many refugees, it be finding a needle in a haystack.”

“One unique needle in a haystack.” Geralt said over his shoulder, leaving.

– –

“What do you mean she disappeared?” Jaskier asked, cocking a shocked eyebrow at Geralt, across the table.

“I went to deal with a Wraith...”

“While she was sick in bed.” Jaskier interrupted, trying grasp the situation.

“Yes.” Geralt growled. “When I got back to our room at the Inn she wasn't there. Her things were there, Charlie was in the stables, but she wasn't. I learned from the barkeep she'd come down at some point and stumbled outside looking pale.” he explained to the Bard. “I figured she'd gone to the Healer's and went there...”

“But she wasn't there either.”

“No. The Healer said he'd treated her for nausea, then she left.” Geralt sighed, raising his pint of ale to his lips. “No one's seen or heard of her since.”

“Do you think this could do something with her brother?” Jaskier asked, frowning down at his own mug.

“No.” Geralt shook his head, putting his cup down. “She was more than certain he died at the Battle of Sodden.”

Jaskier leaned against the wall behind him. “What can I do to help, Geralt?” he asked, looking down his nose at his friend, he could see the worry clear enough in the Witcher's eyes.

“I don't know.” He signed. “I don't even know where'd she go.”

“What about her Godfather's place?” Jaskier asked, the idea peaking in his brain.

Geralt's eyes met Jaskier's, it striking him. Why didn't he think of that? Because it was nearly a month's ride there on a horse and she'd left Charlie at the inn. Perhaps she'd portalled though, or for some outlandish reason decided to walk.

“That's a genius idea, Jaskier.” Geralt said, downing the rest of his ale. “I'm going to find out.”

Jaskier jumped to his feet. “Alright, and-and I'll keep an ear out if I hear anything about her. Maybe ask a few of the other troubadours to keep an ear as well, while they travel.”

“That would be appreciated, Jaskier.” Geralt said, looking solemnly at him. “Thank you.” he rested his hand on the Bard's shoulder and struggled around the words on the tip of his tongue. “You're a good.... _friend_.”

“Of course, Geralt.” Jaskier smiled, leaving the teasing about Geralt calling him a friend when the time was better suited.

Patting him on the shoulder, Geralt went out and mounted Roach, turning north, back to where it all began. It was a hard and long ride, a lonely one at that, something that had never bothered Geralt before; riding from place to place on his own. But, he'd grown so use to Luna being with him, keeping him company, either with just her presence or conversation, not having her against him, warm and safe at night; filled Geralt with a gaping hole in his chest. When the Manor finally did come back into view a tiny hope filled him, riding through the gates and knocking on the door, even when Mary-Ella opened the door and screamed.

“Witcher!”

“Mary-Ella, I've come looking for Luna.” he told her.

“She's not here anymore, Witcher.” she informed him, confused. “I thought you knew that...”

“But, she was here?” that hope wavered.

“Yes, some days ago. She showed up at supper, ate with Emmon and I, visited Marcus's grave, retrieved from his study and left sometime in the morning.” she told him. “We know not where she went though, I promise.”

“What did she take?” Geralt frowned.

“A signet ring.” she told him, blinking. “Her brother's. Would you like to come in and eat, Witcher?” she asked.

“No.” Geralt shook his head, thoughts swirling around his mind. “No, I have to go. Thank you, Mary.” he said, turning his back and going back to Roach, the hope in his chest, dying out.

– –

Geralt returned to Rinde after looking for Luna for almost three months, to find Jaskier impatiently waiting for him at the tavern, with a man and news. 

“What news, Jaskier?” he asked, looking between the Bard and the man accompanying him.

“He swears he's seen Luna.” Jaskier told him. “Valdo sent him to me, after I asked him to keep any eye out, like I promised.”

Geralt rested his eyes on the man. “Well, spit it out.” he snapped, hasty.

“I was passing through a Nilfgaardian camp, on my way to take my pigs to market.” the man started, not sure if he should look Geralt in the eye or not, and settled on the floor. “They stopped me and took my pigs, but not before I noticed a girl that I heard a Bard, Valdo, had asked the Tavern if they'd seen the night before.”

“Describe her?” Geralt told him, trying not to let the hope back into his chest.

“Blue eyes, like frozen water and hair whiter than fresh milk...beautiful.”

“It sounds just like her, Geralt.” Jaskier said, urgently.

“It does.” Geralt agreed, hope sparking in him anyway. “Where is this camp?” he asked the man.

“Northwestern Nazair.” he told him.

“How long ago?”

“Maybe two weeks.” The man answered, shrugging. “But, its a permanent camp, from what I understood.”

“Do you have any idea why she's there?” Jaskier asked him.

“No, sir. I only saw her leaving the tent of a young man, with the same colored eyes as hers.”

Jaskier and Geralt's eyes snapped to each others, realizing the man had just identified Luna's twin brother, Nicolas.

“He's alive!” Jaskier proclaimed.

“Fuck.” Geralt sighed, dropping his head back, in frustration.

“Thank you for telling us.” Jaskier said, handing the man a few coins for his trouble. “So, what's the plan?”

“A plan?” Geralt snapped. “You expect me to have a plan to walk into a Nilfgaardian military camp, in Nilfgaardian occupied Nazair, to get her back?”

“Well...yes.” Jaskier nodded, adamant. “You love her, you have to have a plan to get her back. Her brother is alive and bloody kidnapped her.”

“Or she found out he was alive and decided to join Nilfgaard.”

“Geralt!” The Bard barked, taken aback. “I know what I saw between you two, I know she meant it when she said she'd never leave you willingly.”

“When did she say that?”

“In the tavern, while you went to deal with the Drowned dead.” Jaskier told him. “You have to get her back, Geralt. She needs you.”

Geralt bit into his lips, so many thoughts and feelings conflicting in his mind it made his skin crawl and his temples throb. He rubbed at his temples and slid onto a bench, trying to think over his options and possibilities. Jaskier ordered an ale for him and Geralt, but the Witcher didn't touch it, he just sat there, like a stone, Jaskier would have sworn, if it wasn't for his chest raising and falling periodically, that the Witcher as actually stone.

“Anything?” the Bard asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Nothing.” when Geralt just blinked at him.

Geralt took a breath and Jaskier picked his head up off his arms as he rested on the table between them. “There's only one thing I can do.” he said, quietly.

“And that is?”

“I'm just going to walk into the camp, and demand her back.”

Jaskier looked at Geralt like he'd lost the last brain cell he had left. “You're just going to walk into a Nilfgaardian camp and demand her....”

“Yes. I can't go in there swinging my sword or they could harm her.” Geralt told him, sounding quite reasonable.

“Alright, I'll come with you.” Jaskier said, getting up.

“No, Jaskier.” Geralt said, putting his hand on the Bard's arm. “I've risked to many lives already, I won't risk another.” he told him.

Jaskier looked down at Geralt's hand resting on his arm, and back up at Geralt. “Fair enough. If there's anything else I can do for you, let me know.”

“I will.” Geralt said, letting his arm go.


	13. A Life

He lost no time finding the Nilfgaardian camp in the Nazair mountains. The camp itself was in a valley between the mountain ranges, with only one trail in. He left Roach deep in the wooded area and snuck towards the camp in the cover of dark. The camp was well lit and well guarded, from what Geralt could see. He found a decent spot to crouch and watch the camp, unseen. He saw no sign of Luna or Nicolas, until just before dawn, when a flap to a tent, the largest, in the center opened and Nicolas stepped out and went to the tent to the immediate right of it. He stopped for a moment, as if calling in for permission to enter, when that tent's flap opened and he stepped inside. Convincing him that had to be where Nicolas was holding Luna. He waited until the light came up more before going down the trail and right into the camp, unarmed.

“I demand to see Nicolas.” He yelled out as the camp guards circled him. “He has something that belongs to me.”

After several tense moments, Nicolas showed himself, appearing at the edge of the circle of men surrounding the Witcher. “Geralt of Rivia, nice to see you again.” he smiled, smugly. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“You can give Luna back to me.” Geralt stated, plainly.

“I don't know what you mean, Witcher.” Nicolas said, cocking his head at him. “I haven't seen my dear sister since Sodden.”

“Bullshit, I have reports that she's been seen _here_ , and with _you._ ” Geralt growled, baring his teeth at the mage.

“Well,” Nicolas shrugged, unbothered. “You'll never find out.” he said, turning his back on the Witcher. “Kill him.” he ordered, walking back to his tent.

Geralt readied himself to fight, clenching his hands into tight fists and shifting his weight on his feet, sizing up who he was going to take out first.

“No!” Luna's voice yelled out as she pushed by Nicolas, who caught her by the arms.

Geralt relaxed, his eyes widening seeing her, the tiny hope that had settled in his chest burst and consumed him, dropping his arms and relaxing his hands. He and Luna held each others eyes for a moment that felt like an eternity for them both, but too short all the same, when it broke. Luna looked her brother in the eyes, gripping his shirt.

“No, Nicolas.” she whispered to him, feeling Nicolas wanting to kill Geralt, no matter what she said, but he yielded when she pleaded with him in their own language.

Groaning, his shoulders slumped with disappointment. “Fine.” he hissed between his teeth, still looking at her. “I'll bring him to you, you _rest_.” he told her, a tender affection coming over his face, making Geralt uneasy.

Nodding and glancing back at Geralt, she moved away from Nicolas and back from where she'd come from. Nicolas looked at Geralt, still fighting the urge to just have him killed, sneering he shoved it aside for Luna's sake.

“Let him go.” he snapped at the guards. “Follow me, Witcher. Though, you don't fucking deserve it.” he threw over his shoulder, not waiting for Geralt to catch up. “I'm not happy that he's here, Luna.” he said, going into her tent.

“I'm sure he's going be even less happy about it than you are, Nicolas.” Luna snapped back. “And a good many other things.”

“Like what?” Geralt growled, entering the tent and looking between the two siblings.

Luna pressed her lips together, pacing one side of the tent as Geralt and Nicolas stood on the other, trying to figure out where to start. But, stopped to take several deep breaths. Alert, Nicolas moved to a table in one corner of the tent, picked up a bottle of something and poured it into a glass to hand to her, his hand cupping her face and thumbing her cheek as she drank it. Geralt could feel his hands tighten into fists and jealousy heat his stomach as he watched them.

“Luna.” he growled, the jealousy dripping from his voice.

“Leave.” she whispered, startling him. But, she looked at Nicolas. “Leave,” she repeated. “It's fine.”

Nicolas looked between the two of them. “I'll be right outside, if you need me, Nana.” he told her, squeezing her hand. With one more rude look at Geralt, Nicolas stepped out of the tent, leaving the two alone.

“Why are you here?” Geralt demanded, his jaw tight. “Did you decide to join Nilfgaard after all?”

Luna felt the words stab into her like a hot knife, and it made her knees weak. “No, Geralt.” she whispered, so quietly.

“Then, why?” he snapped, passion overcoming him. “Do you know what it did to me to come back from those catacombs to find you gone?” Luna winced at the anger and pain in his voice. “The things I thought happened to you. Someone kidnapping you, you laying somewhere de-ad,...” he choked on his emotions. “That you left because I couldn't protect you when you got sick after the battle, or from Nicolas. And low and behold, where do I find you? Here, with him! After what he did to you, after he had a hand in killing Marcus.”

“Geralt...”

“You promised!” he barked, shaking again, his nails digging into his palms. “How could you...”

“I was scared!” Luna yelled over him.

Geralt's anger was stoppered by his heart launching into his throat at her words. Scared? Scared of what? Scared of... _him_. His mouth opened and closed, his stomach dropped out in a cold rush and his skin tingled as his brain turned into a wreck, his hands shaking like a tree in a wind storm, and his eyes burning. What was happening to him, why was he feeling this. He didn't react this way when Yennifer left him. But, Yennifer wasn't Luna, either. She'd become more important, more special.

“Geralt.” Luna mewled in a shaking voice, moving around the physical obstacle between them, reaching for him. But he stumbled away from her, like her touch would burn him. “Geralt, please. Let me...”

“Are you scared of me, Luna?” he asked around his heart, his blurry eyes trying to find hers.

“No,...” she gulped, thick tears falling. “Not...like that...”

“How can you be afraid of someone, any other way.” he asked, trying to be angry so the confusion of pain would go away, but it didn't work. “I'd never...”

“I know, Geralt.” she whispered, finally touching him. “I don't know how to tell you, without you becoming more hurt and angry. Christ, if it was only that I was worried about I wouldn't have left...”

“But, you did...” he said, letting her hold his hand, limply.

Luna sighed, and let go of his hand. She wiped furiously at the tears burning her eyes, moving away from him again, putting the bed between them both. “If...” she started, trying to draw courage. “If, it was as simple as you being angry and hurt at me for why I left. I would have stayed and told you. But, as much as I am worried by it. I knew I would never be able to stand the look, and question, of doubt it would give you, if I had.” she explained in a even voice, ignoring the growing feeling to throw up and faint.

“There's nothing you can, or could have done, to make me doubt you, Luna.” Geralt told her, blinking the angry tears out of his eyes. “Nothing.”

“I know what I know of Witchers, Geralt.” she told him, matter of factually. “and I know what it is that would call that doubt.”

“Tell me, what it is.” he said, gritting his teeth as more emotion wanted to overwhelm him again. “Give me the chance to react how I want to react, and not how you think I will.”

“I don't think it, Geralt. I'm sure of it.”

“Tell me!” He yelled at the top of his voice, startling Luna.

Her mouth worked for a moment, struggling to finally admit it. “I'm pregnant.” she whimpered, fresh tears and pain blooming.

Geralt's eyes closed briefly, rolling back open to look at her as his mouth went dry at the word that she uttered. “That's not possible.” he said, feeling the doubt seep in with the pain and anger, with the hope that gripped him when he finally found her. “Witchers are sterile. We can't breed.” he said, slowly.

“I know.” she whispered, almost mouthed, seeing the doubt finally set into his eyes.

Anger rushed into him, pushing him a step forward. “Who's is it?” he snapped, making Luna take a cautious step back. “Who else have you lain with? And, don't you dare answer me, or look me in the eye, unless you tell me the truth.” he warned, his voice deepening even more.

Taking a deep and steady breath, Luna straightened herself up, drawing her eyes slowly up his feet and legs, up his torso and chest to his mouth, before finally managing to look him square in the eyes. “I've lain with _no one_ , but you, since that night Marcus died, and _it is yours_.” she told him, conviction settling in her voice.

“No.” he shook his head, refusing to believe something so foolish. “No.”

“Yes, Geralt.” Luna snapped, defensively. “I have no reason to lie to you.”

“But, you'd leave me, because of this?” he asked, waving a hand at her. “You have no reason to lie to me, but you find reason enough to run away with, what you claim, to be my child?”

Luna was moving before she was thinking, crossing back to him and slapping him across the face, the pain of the sting against her palm, recalling her to her senses. “This child is yours, Geralt. I may have been cowardly in leaving you like I did, but I am not lying about something as serious as this. I have no reason too, and you damn well know it.”

“Then, tell me how this is fucking possible.” he growled, bringing his face inches from hers.

“I've spent the last three months trying to figure that out,” she growled back. “That's why I came to Nicolas. Nilfgaard may be a band of filthy bastards, but they are the top in the medical field, and I knew when Nicolas found out about my condition he'd set aside the pettiness of our squabble and aid me.”

“Oh, so you'll take our child to your murderous brother, but, won't tell me you're carrying it.” he hissed. “How I rate in the world.” he growled, catching her hand as she went to hit him again.

“I knew this would happen.” she panted. “I knew you'd doubt it, no matter what I did. That's why I left. What would you have done, if I waited for you to come back, and I told you I was pregnant, Geralt? Hm.” she mocked him.

“I don't know.”

“Neither did I.” she responded. “So, I took a chance, and went to the one person I knew, no matter what was between us, would believe me.” she pulled her hand from his grip. “I went back to the Manor at first, but I knew once I was there, it be the first place you looked for me. So, I took the signet ring Nicolas wore and used it to find him, here.” she explained, sitting down on the bed. “He wouldn't see me at first, but when I told the guard that it was a matter of blood, he came to see me, and I explained to him what was going on. I've been here with him ever since.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I don't know.” she admitted. “I still don't know what to do with the knowledge that I am pregnant, let alone how I would have told you. But, I ended up doing something else you'd disapprove of.”

“And what might that be?”

“I allowed Destiny to do with it, what it would.” she told him, plainly. “I figured if I was meant to tell you about the baby, you'd find me.” she looked him over. “And here you are, and so I told you. What you do with the knowledge, is up to you, Geralt.”

Geralt sank into a chair, his eyes still locked on Luna. “Are you keeping it?”

“Yes.” she told him, straightforward.

“Did the Healers here tell you why we were apparently capable of conceiving together?”

Luna sighed softly, pressing a hand to her stomach, causing Geralt to see the slight curve of her normally flat stomach, causing his own to twitch. “They think it...maybe it's a by-product of my new powers. Other than that, we're unsure.” she told him. “And the fact that my symptoms are out of the ordinary.”

“How so?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“While nausea is common, this level is not.” she informed him. “And a fetus's heart beat is usually, incredibly fast. This one's is not, it's significantly slower...”

“Like a Witcher's....” The words tumbled out of Geralt's mouth like water over a fall.

“Exactly like one's.” Luna nodded, watching Geralt's brain do the math and connect the dots. “I'm a bout three and a half, almost four months, so, the night after Sodden, when we made love at that farm house, is probably the time it happened.”

Geralt rose from the chair and carefully walked to her, like he expected her to bolt as frightened rabbit would, but she stayed still as he sat beside her. With a gulp to settle himself, he gently pressed his hand to her stomach. His hand tingled at the touch of her swelling belly, already feeling the difference from the last time he touched it. He looked at her, doubt and pain slowly being replaced with wonder, as the prospect at having a natural born child of his own, started to sink into him. A smile slowly spread across Luna's lips, laying her hand on his, pressing it a little firmer to her stomach.

“I am sorry, Geralt.” she whispered, brushing his hair behind his ear, with her free hand. “I should have trusted you, like I have in everything else. Please, forgive me?” she mewled, searching his eyes.

“Luna..” He brushed his thumb across her cheek, understanding now. “You were protecting the baby. _Our_ baby. I was wrong to be upset with you, to doubt you like that. I should have trusted and believed in you better. It's I that needs to ask your forgiveness.”

“If you can forgive me, I will always forgive you, Geralt.” she assured him, feeling the first certainty fill her for the first time since she had found out and left.

“Forever, Luna.” Geralt told her, leaning forward and kissing her, passionately, like he had wanted to for months. “and Always.”

Overcome, Luna threw her arms around his neck and hugged him like life depended on it, and it had felt that way for a long time. Fresh tears filled her eyes and overflowed, soaking his shirt as he held her in his arms, feeling himself being weighted back into the world he'd become so needy of, and without even knowing it until she had left. He vowed then, more than ever, that he'd never let anything take her from him, nothing would ever get between them, or their child. He'd kill them, he'd kill them all if they tried to touch a hair on either of their heads, and gladly die himself to make it so.

“Oh god.” Luna moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

“What is it?” he asked, instantly worried.

“Being nauseous all the time, is trying.” she said against his shoulder, soothed by his scent.

“Here.” he whispered, moving them back on the bed and laying her head in his lap, stroking her hair and face, gently. “Just breathe and let it pass.” he told her, softly.

“It feels nice...” she mumbled.

“What does?”

“Feeling you again, feeling safe again.”

“Have you not felt safe?” he asked, frowning down at her.

“Not like I do with you.” she whispered, her voice slowly getting softer.

Geralt smiled, touched. “Because you always are, my love.” he assured her, caressing her neck, and watching her fall asleep.

It was a little while later that the flap to her tent opened and an elf entered, Geralt gave him a stern look as he stopped in the opening of the tent, shocked to see Geralt there.

“Who are you?” the elf asked, blinking.

“Geralt of Rivia.” Geralt answered. “She's mine.” he elaborated, nodding to Luna.

“Is...is she asleep?” the elf asked.

“Yes, she is.”

“Incredible.” the elf said, shaking his head.

“How is that incredible?” Geralt frowned. “She'd fall asleep standing, if she lost attention long enough.”

“Well, its just...” the elf started. “I've had to brew her Valerian tea at night, so she could sleep. She struggled with it quite a bit, so I'm shocked that she's done so without it. Perhaps, it has something to do with you.”

“and who are you?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mufula, the healer in this camp.” he bowed. “I've been taking care of her and the little one. I just came to see how she was, but I see she's in excellent hands.” he smiled, looking at Luna curled up and her head resting on Geralt's thigh.

“That she is.” Geralt nodded, resting a protective hand on Luna's shoulder.

“Well, if she, or you, is in need of anything.” Mufula said, turning to the tent flap. “I am just two tents over.” he said, and left.

Geralt relaxed, when the Healer left, letting his head rest back against the bed's headboard, and let the idea of having a child, his own blood, with Luna roll around his head. The thought was odder than anything he'd thought of, or heard, in the century of his life. He'd never considered it. He was too young to when his mother dropped him off at Vesemir's doorstep, and completely disregarded it after the Witcher mutations were said to have made him impotent. It felt like he'd just found out God and the Devil did exist after all, and it startled the wits out of him. But, he knew as much as it startled and worried him, that it scared the daylights out of Luna, it was her body after all, growing a child that was part Witcher mutated from him and part magical from her. Who knew what this would do to the child, or her,...no one knew. It had never happened before. He looked down at her, and felt more afraid then he had ever in his life, afraid that he'd lose her for good, if the pregnancy didn't bode well, and afraid they'd lose the baby. He didn't know which one rightly terrified him more, so he shoved it from his thoughts, and thought of only the moment they were in, luckily a quiet one. So, he shifted Luna off his lap and laid down with her spooned against him, his hand gently resting over the little life they'd both, somehow, managed to create, and let the fact they were both safe in his arms once again take him to sleep.


	14. Future Promises

“I want you to come back with me.” Geralt said, lightly caressing Luna's spine as she laid beside him in bed.

“Back where?” she asked, content, especially since her nausea hadn't bothered her in a couple hours.

“To Kaer Morhen.” he told her, brushing her hair off her back.

Luna sat up on her elbows, and gave him her best ' _are you crazy_ ' look. “Why?”

“It's safe there, and winter is coming.” He explained, tracing the dark raised scar on her shoulder. “I usually go back for winter, and I'm not risking travel in a snowstorm with you being pregnant.”

“You wanna take a baby back into the place you had such a lovely childhood in.” She said, not having any of that nonsense.

“Witchers haven't been made in Kaer Morhen for decades, Luna.” He told her, a bit impatient. “Not since it was sacked.”

Luna stared at him as something she'd utterly forgot to think of, in the whirlwind of events in the last few months. Geralt narrowed his eyes at her, seeing a cloud pass over her face and darken her eyes.

“What is it?”

“Kaer Morhen can't produce Witchers anymore.” she said, slowly as the thought cultivated in her mind.

“Yeah, I swear.” Geralt nodded, trying to find her point.

She looked up at him and the dark shadow in her eyes turned into utter horror. “What if you could breed them....” she asked, an icy cold seeping into her.

The thought struck Geralt in the heart, he hadn't considered the possibilities of that either. He knew, they both did, the baby would have some form of magical mutation, but hadn't considered the levity of it. It was one thing for the baby to be mutated, it was another at the thought that that would be tried and exploited to revive the Witchers, or even make a whole new set of them. He wondered what Vesemir would say in the situation. Geralt pressed his lips absently to Luna's shoulder, trying to think of something reassuring to say to her, and that they'd both believe, but the Witcher's mind came up blank. So, he offered the reassurance with his presence. Groaning, Luna rolled out of bed, caught herself in a stretch and went to a flap in the back of the tent, disappearing for a moment.

“What was that?” Geralt asked, rolling onto his back.

“The second thing I do a lot while pregnant,” Luna told him, standing at the foot of their bed. “is pee.”

“I think I'd prefer you to pee than puke.” Geralt said, folding his arms beneath his head.

“I am in agreement there.” She agreed, crawling into bed and sitting in his lap.

Geralt looked up at her, feeling the muscles at the corner of his lips tug upwards. He rested his hands on her thighs, rubbing up and down them. Letting his fingers ghost up her sides and around her back to the silk ties that secured her dress to her, tugging the knot free and pulling it from around her torso. He rested his hands on her ribs, his thumbs curving underneath her breasts and circling around her nipples, feeling them harden under the callous pads of his thumbs. Luna's legs squeezed Geralt's sides as she bit her lips at the sensations shooting through her nerves like tiny bolts of lightning. Geralt pushed her dress aside, one hand moving down to rest on her stomach, that fit just about perfectly in his palm. He sat up and pressed his lips just above her navel, his eyes closing. Luna brushed her fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head.

“I need you to promise me something, Geralt.” she whispered into his white silvery hair.

“Anything.” He whispered, his lips tickling the skin of her belly, but looked up at her, hearing her sigh.

“We don't know how this will go,” she told him, knuckles brushing his cheek. “I might live and the baby may not, or the baby could live and I won't, or both of us die, or even both of us may live...”

“Nothing...”

“Geralt,” she looked him in the eyes, seriousness in them. “I need you to promise me, that if I don't, that you will do everything you can for the baby, no matter how hard it might be.”

“I can't.”

“You can, Geralt.” she whispered, her eyes softening. “If the worst should happen to me, you will be the only parent this child will have, you are its father, I won't have a say in it, if I don't live.” Her heart faltered at the thought. “The choices and decisions that are made after that, are yours, and they will not be easy, and they will hurt, but you have to make them anyway, for the sake of its life, and probably my own. I need you to promise, you'll do it.”

Geralt rested his head on her chest, hugging his arms around her waist, he didn't want to do it, especially if it meant making those choices without her, but she was right. He'd be the only thing the baby would have left in this world, and he'd never abandoned it. He'd abandoned Ciri and look where it had gotten the princess, his own mother abandoned him and look how his life turned out. He wanted a different life for his and Luna's child.

“I promise, Luna.” he whispered, looking her back in the eye. “Just promise you'll do everything to stay with me, and the baby.”

“With all my might.” she told him, sincerely. “And, if, you feel Kaer Morhen is the safest place, then I'll go.” she added.

“It is a safe place, away from the war with Nilfgaard, and a great many other dangers.” Geralt said. “But, the one worry I have is having a healer on hand, in case something should go wrong. While, Kaer Morhen has its own definition of one, they're not exactly versed in pregnancy.”

Luna chuckled, amused. “I wouldn't expect them too. But, I worry myself what those there will say when you bring your pregnant lover there.”

“Hm.” Geralt grunted, pressing his lips together. “There's a worry. But, there's very few Witchers left. Vesemir, he's like a father figure to me, and was a fighting instructor, and Guza, the healer, are the only ones that make it a permanent residence. Us Witchers that are still around very rarely go back, unless we need too, or have no place else for winter.”

“I can always ask Nicolas to allow me to bring Mufula.” Luna said, shrugging. “He's got the expertise in pregnancy, and he's been taking care of me since I arrived, so he knows the situation already.”

Geralt tilted his head back, kissing under Luna's jaw. “Yeah, that's a possibility.” he agreed, kissing around her neck to the spot between her jaw and ear, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. “He seems competent, and he's blissfully quiet.”

Luna laughed, dropping her head back. “Geralt of Rivia's biggest kink is people that shut up.” she giggled, gripping his shoulder as he gently sucked on her throat.

“Hm.” he moaned against her skin, sucking hard, and biting her. “No.” he growled, but not angrily, catching her wrist in his hand as she began slipping her hand into his pants. “No.” he said softer, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“Don't you want me?” she asked, a little taken aback.

“Yes.” he whispered in a rough voice. “I will always want you, Luna.”

“Even when my belly is so big, I can't see my toes?” she teased, kneading his shoulders.

“Even, when your belly is so big you can't get up.” he teased back, rubbing his lips against her collarbone, hands rubbing up and down her back. “or roll over.” he added, amusing himself with the thought.

“I'll end up like a turtle on its back.” she giggled, shaking her head.

“I'll turn you over again.” he told her, pressing his lips to the pulse in her neck. “I'll help you up when you get stuck, and I'll make sure all ten of your toes are still there, every morning.” He nipped at her shoulder.

“You know, I learned something about my Brother.” She whispered.

“Hm.” Geralt growled against her breast, he didn't want the thought of that bastard ruining their moment, but he let her be.

“He's married.”

Geralt pulled back at that and looked at her with skeptical shock, a expression that screamed, _who the fuck would marry that crazy fucker_. “Oh.”

“Aye, she's annoying as all get out.” Luna informed him, rolling her eyes at his look and the thought of her sister-in-law. “She's also pregnant.”

The expression on Geralt's face evolved to the taken a back, _God save us all, that shithead is populating the world_. “God help us.”

“Honestly, what I thought.” Luna agreed. “She's due to pop the little monster out any time now.”

“Little monster?” Geralt cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Hey,” she threw her hands up. “That's what she called the poor thing.” she told him, then suddenly started laughing.

“What's so funny?”

“She calls the baby a monster, and you're a Witcher, maybe you can help her get it out faster.” she managed to say between laughs and gasps for air.

Geralt narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together, only slightly amused at the joke. “Hm, funny.” he said, tightly.

“Oh, come now.” Luna said, wiping tears from her face and tapping him playfully on the nose; squeaking when he nipped at her finger.

“So, you're going to be an aunt.” he said, bring the conversation back around.

“Yep.” she smiled, liking the idea of it.

“I'm more than sure you'll make a better mother, than she will.” Geralt said, staunchly.

“A rat would be a better mother than Mona.” Luna retorted, rolling her eyes. “I'm surprised she hasn't barged into the tent yet. She's usually here for hours on end, because, and I quote, ' _You're the only other real woman, in this camp_.'” she said, nailing Mona's nasally voice. “She doesn't count any other female in the camp as a real woman, or people, probably. She talks about her body servant, Lia, like she's a under bred horse.”

Geralt shook his head, disgusted by the woman already. “She seems to fit your brother, quite well.” he commented, rubbing his hand over the ugly scar on Luna's side from the Kikimora attack, frowning feeling the scar tighten and her hiss. “Does it still bother you?” he asked.

“No. but my skin is stretching as the baby grows, so, it's pulling on the scar.” she told him, looking down at the scar, a painful stab in her throat seeing it. “It's just sensitive, is all. Mufula gave me an ointment for it, its supposed to soften the scar tissue.”

“Where is it?” Geralt asked, tracing the edge of it.

“On the table in the corner.”

Nodding, Geralt carefully removed her from his lap and retrieved the medium container of ointment. “What is this?” he asked, sniffing at it. “Honey...tea tree oil...coconut oil, and...” he took a deeper whiff. “Aloe.”

“Yep.” Luna nodded, rolling onto her side, so he could rub it into her skin.

“Odd combination.” he said, scooping up a good amount with his fingers and gently rubbing it into the scar on her side. “Smells nice, though.” he added.

“Mhmm.” Luna hummed, taking pleasure in the feel of his fingers working her skin. “You take a walk with me?” she asked, opening her eyes as he put the ointment back. “I'm getting a bit of a migraine.”

“Is it just a migraine, or something more?” he asked, slowly turning back to her, his senses perking up, he knew what her migraines could turn into.

“It's just a regular one, think its because of having the dim light of candles, straining me.” she said, getting up and fixing her dress. “And that yesterday was the best sleep I've had in weeks.”

“Why were you having sleeping issues?” Geralt asked, holding the tent flap open for her.

“Stress. Magic use.” she said, listing reasons. “Being pregnant. Worried. Scared....lonely.” she whispered, looking at her feet. “Nightmares.”

Geralt nodded, his brow furrowed, offering his arm to her as they walked around the perimeter of the camp. “Downing and in the dark again.” he summed up, remembering her telling him about the nightmares she had.

“No.” she shook her head. “They're nightmares, and bother me, but they don't scare me. I'm use to them.” she said, gripping his arm to step over a puddle. “It's the other nightmare that's been bothering me of late.”

“You never told me about that nightmare.” he said carefully, not wanting her to feel pushed into telling him what it was.

“I know.” she answered, bothered. “I've never told anyone about it.”

Geralt stayed quiet, letting her decide.

She sighed. “It's the oldest nightmare, I have.” she started, silently. “Since I can remember. I'm standing in a field and in front of me is the shadows of people I feel I know, but I can't make out, I know who they are by feel and sense.” her eyes lost focus as she recalled the dream. “Then, all of a sudden, the ground beneath them breaks and shoots into the air, them and the ground fragments suspended, as if in slow motion or a pause. Then, it goes throwing chunks of earth, rock and parts in every direction, pelting me, but not hurting me. All I hear is their toneless voices pleading me to stop, and I feel something warm on me and see blood pouring from my nose and mouth...” she trailed off.

“Then, you wake up.” Geralt nodded, understanding, but not entirely getting it.

“Yes.” she nodded, shyly. “I don't understand it, but it terrifies me.”

“It sounds like it should.” He told her, squeezing her hand. “But, it's only a dream, Luna. It can't hurt you, or those people.” he thumbed her fingers.

“I know.” she agreed, feeling silly. “But, it always feels so real.”

“Dreams have the misfortune of doing that.” he replied, turning them back to their tent.

“Luna, I've been looking for you.” Nicolas said as they neared the tent, he looked flushed and frantic.

“Geralt and I took a walk around the camp.” Luna told him, tilting her head. “What is it?”

“Mona is in labor, she wants you to be with her.” he explained, utterly ignoring the murderous looks Geralt was giving him.

“Me?” Luna frowned. “Why?”

“I don't know. She said you're who she wants, and so I told her I'd retrieve you.” he said, looking back at his tent as a cry of pain came from it. “Please, Skye.” he begged her.

“Alright.” she gave him, letting Geralt's arm go. “You owe me.” she told her brother, going by.

“Why do you call her that?” Geralt called to Nicolas's back.

“Call her what, Witcher?” Nicolas snapped, impatiently.

“Skye.”

Nicolas turned back to Geralt. “It's her middle name.” he told him. “Luna, is six minutes older than me. She was born six minutes before dawn, on a cloudy full moon. That's how she got her name. Luna means Moon and Skye means Cloud.” he explained to Geralt, actually sounding civil.

Geralt slowly nodded, letting it sink in. “Fair enough.”

“I'm guessing she already told you her news.” Nicolas asked, his skin prickling as another cry came from his tent.

“She did, yes.” Geralt nodded, narrowing his eyes, slightly.

Nicolas looked the Witcher in the eyes. “Then, for Luna's sake, I congratulate you on become an expecting father.” he said, turned on his heels and entered his tent.


	15. An Unexpected Source

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the baby name for Nicolas's daughter to be "Nona" because in Greek Mythology, Nona was the Goddess of Destiny.

Nicolas allowed Geralt to enter the tent after Mona finally gave birth to his daughter, Nona. Babies were an odd subject to the Witcher, and awkward, with a bit of fear of them. They were tiny, fragile and loud, three things Witchers didn't deal with often. He ducked his head entering the tent, the metallic smell of blood and birth tinging in his senses, but what gave the big, bad-ass Witcher a pause was seeing Luna sitting on the bed beside Mona, her niece swaddled in a blanket and cradled in her arms. Her face was bright, a face and heart splitting smile on her lips as her eyes danced with love and admiration, cooing and making funny sounds to the wee thing. Almost like a compass finding north, Luna looked up at Geralt, her face still shining, but with a tint of what would one day be their moment. She looked away, down at the baby and carefully handed her niece to her brother. The utter shock hit when Nicolas carried Nona over to Geralt and held her out to him.

“No.” He shook his head, feeling his hands go clammy at the prospect of holding the baby, he was too rough and hard to hold something so dainty.

“Take her, Geralt.” Nicolas said, softly, but firmly. “You'll be doing this same thing soon enough, and practice will never hurt.”

“I-” Geralt started to protest, but Nicolas took his arm and maneuvered it so he held her anyway.

He looked down at Nona with wide golden eyes, expecting her to shatter at any second, or do what everyone did when they saw him for the first time, scream. But, she pressed her little fist to her mouth and opened her stormy blue eyes at him, blinked and closed them again. There was a feeling in his chest he'd never felt before in his life, and couldn't find what word it was it belonged too. He carefully hugged her to his chest, taking the teeny fist she thrust out of her blanket between his thumb and forefinger, marveled. Luna looked at him, feeling her insides melt, and glanced at her brother, who was watching her. They shared a small affectionate smile between each other, each blushing. After holding her for a little bit longer, Geralt gave Nona back over to Nicolas, feeling the air between the two of them shift into something he dare called tolerable.

“She's beautiful.” Geralt commented, watching Nicolas stroke her chubby little cheek.

“Thank you.” Mona smiled, lounging in bed. “I can't wait for you to have yours, Luna.” she said, taking hold of her hand. “It's wonderful.”

Luna chuckled, squeezing her hand. “You were so not saying that an hour ago.” she laughed.

Mona laughed. “True, that part was godawful. But the end produce is well worth the pain.” she said, taking Nona back from Nicolas.

“Well, you should rest and get to know your new little one.” Luna said, getting up, giving Mona and Nicolas hugs, and going out with Geralt. “You look cute with a baby in your arms.” Luna commented as they went back to their tent.

“I was thinking the same thing of you.” Geralt answered, holding the flap open for her to go in first.

“We'll be good parents, Geralt.” Luna said, resting her hands on his chest, standing on tip toes and kissed him.

“Well, you'll at least be a good mother.” he said against her mouth. “We'll find out about me.”

– –

Geralt, Luna and Mufula left the Nilfgaardian camp a month later, Nicolas giving Luna the Healer in case she needed him on their ride to Kaer Morhen. But, before they made their official way to the Witcher stronghold, they made a detour to Aretuza to visit and make sure Ciri was well. When they got there the princess wasted no time launching herself into Geralt's arms, excited to see him again. And to further surprise Yennifer was there, having returned after taking a hiatus, where she wouldn't tell anyone. Geralt set Ciri down on her feet and she happily moved to hug Luna as well.

“Are you hiding something?” Ciri asked, pulling back, having felt the now nearly prominent bump of Luna's stomach.

“Something like that.” Luna blushed at her. “How are you doing here?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh, I'm doing well, Yen, Triss and Tissaia are helping me with my powers.” she said, smiling at Yennifer.

“She's doing well at them too.” Yennifer nodded, smiling.

“Good to hear.” Geralt smiled, glad to hear that Ciri was happy and safe.

“Why are you here?” Yennifer asked Geralt. “Just to check on Ciri?”

“Yes, Luna and I are going to Kaer Morhen.” he told her, looking back at Luna.

“You're taking her to Kaer Morhen?” Yennifer frowned. “Why?”

Geralt bit into his lip and instantly got overwhelmingly uncomfortable, and muttering a _fuck_. He remembered Yennifer going through everything she could to be able to conceive; from Dragon Hearts to Djinns, and every magical spell in between. He may no longer love her like he had, but he still cared about her. “She's pregnant.” he said, flat out, figuring the straight truth was better than dancing around it.

“She's what?” Yennifer snapped, looking at him.

“I'm pregnant.” Luna repeated. “And yes, it is his.” she clarified.

“That's not at all possible.” Yennifer said, feeling her anger and jealousy fester. “You told me yourself, Geralt that you were sterile, that all Witchers were.”

“I thought I was.” Geralt told her. “I don't know about the others. Our best guess is that it has to do with the powers she received when we fulfilled our Destiny together.”

“You, Geralt of Rivia, the great White Wolf, who's repeatedly said that Destiny is horseshit and can go fuck itself,” Yennifer raged. “is going to take that as an excuse to her ending up pregnant. How do you know she really is!”

Luna pulled her shirt up, revealing her undeniably swollen belly. “That doesn't lie, Yennifer.” she said, confidently.

“How do you know its yours?” She asked, ignoring Luna.

“Yen.” Geralt sighed. “It's mine. We don't know how, but we know it is. Nothing is going to change that.”

Yennifer looked between the two of them, wanting to say something more, but couldn't manage it and instead, just stormed away back into Aretuza. Frowning as she walked away, Geralt turned his attention to why he'd come to Aretuza to start with. They spent several hours with Ciri, seeing her room and hearing about her favorite classes, how she'd become friends with the other girls learning there and showing them the new things she'd learned as well. So, reassured of her well-being, Geralt and Luna took their leave of Aretuza and started the long journey to Kaer Morhen.

“Do you think we'll make it before winter?” Luna asked, pulling up beside Geralt.

“Just barely.” He answered, looking up at the sky that steadily grew darker with the threat of snow. “You doing alright?” he asked, looking at her, but she looked magnificent, even after such a long journey from Nazair. Her skin glowed, her energy running on endless fuel, her hair seemed whiter, but silkier and her blue eyes were like looking at the sky on a clear and sunny spring day.

“I'm great.” She smiled happily at him. “But, I do need to pee.” she said, pulling Charlie to a stop and slipped out of his saddle, to pop away somewhere private to relieve herself. “Geralt!” Luna screamed, from where she disappeared.

Tensing, Geralt jumped off Roach, pulling his sword at the same time and ran towards her voice. He made it to her, finding her with her back pressed against a tree and a very hungry looking wolf snarling at them. Geralt slowly extended his free hand, reaching out to Luna, who carefully took his hand and let him carefully pull her back behind him, his sword pointed at the wolf, at the ready should it lung at them. He slowly backed them up to the road, his eyes never leaving the wolf's. They had about made it back to the horses when the wolf reared back and launched at them. Reacting in a snap, Geralt lunged forward as the wolf came towards him and buried his sword straight through its neck. Yanking his sword out and staking it into the ground, he turned his attention to Luna, cupping her face in his hands and looking her over, head to toes.

“Did he hurt you?” he panted, his adrenaline up.

“No, no.” she shook her head, panting and shaking from being startled by it. “No, it never touched me. Just startled me, is all.”

He nodded, pulling her against him and burying his face into her hair. Calming down, they mounted back up and carried on, Luna's need to pee very much forgotten until they made camp several hours later. Geralt sat up, staring into the fire as Luna slept against him, her head pillowed by his leg and wrapped up in his cloak. He stroked the side of her face as she shifted and whimpered, shushing her, quietly.

“Does she have nightmares often?” Mufula asked, laying on his side on the other side of the fire.

“Yes.” Geralt answered, caressing her hair.

Geralt looked down at Luna again, feeling her shift again, watching her arm snake out from the fold of his cloak and her hand wrap around his medallion. He felt her relax a moment later, rubbing her cheek gently against his thigh; her nightmare seemed to go away.

“It's you, you know.” Mufula stated, rolling onto his back, trying to get comfortable.

“What is?” Geralt asked, looking over at him.

“You're her Anchor.” the Elf told him. “Many magic wielders have nightmares of some form, the stronger they are, the darker they tend to be.” he explained, folding his hands across his stomach and looking up at the stars between the canopies. “Many of them end up turning on their own kind because it drove them mad, unless they have an Anchor. Something, or one, to anchor them into the right meld. Keep them sane, if you will.” he turned his head towards Geralt. “She tip toes a thin line, Witcher. She was born on the edge of night and day, if she doesn't have an Anchor, she will eventually turn. That's why Oron wanted her so much, he wanted to position himself as her Anchor, to reek havoc for Nilfgaard. But, because you are her Anchor, it did not work.”

“That's just a bunch of silly shit people tell others to scare them into behaving.” Geralt said, rolling his eyes.

“You know it's not.” Mufula said, matter-of-factually. “Her brother told me what happened that night the four of you were in that house of their family's. All you did was say her name, tell her that she had you, and she stopped from bringing that entire house down on top of you.” he saw the slight change in Geralt's face. “The Battle of Sodden, I treated Nicolas's wounds he sustained from the fight with her. I was among the men still behind Nilfgaard lines when that burst of magic happened, I saw who did it, and it wasn't Oron, or Nicolas.”

“It was her.”

“Oh yes.” he nodded. “In that moment, she'd slipped from your Anchor, overcome with anger of losing her brother, of thinking he was dead, and letting herself be consumed by the chaos inside of her.”

“What happened to Oron?” Geralt asked, the question that had been burning in his mind since the battle, and Luna couldn't remember what had happened.

“Poof.” Mufula said, simply.

“Poof?” he narrowed his eyes.

“It was as if he fragmented and left nothing behind, but a puddle of blood.” he explained.

“And Nicolas?” Geralt asked. “If she thought she killed him, why wasn't he there when Yennifer and I got there? It was only her and the blood.”

“Before she fainted, she rested her hand on his arm and he vanished.” Mufula told him. “He was found a day or so later almost a hundred miles away, in the middle of a field. It's like in her chaos, she portalled him away, for some reason. Or perhaps, she had only done so on accident, still charged with the magic coursing through her, and grief.”

Geralt looked down at Luna and frowned.

“It's no surprise she doesn't remember.” the Elf added. “Releasing that level of magic, should have killed her out right. I've seen mages and wizards release less, and combust or turn into brain dead sacks of meat.” he chuckled. “I don't know what Luna is, but, whatever she is, it's ancient and strong.”

Geralt tucked his cloak around her a bit more, the information the healer had given him, bothered him. She'd expended magic to the extent of losing memory, he didn't have to have the Elf tell him how dangerous it was. But, the Witcher admitted it made sense, she'd lost control in the passion of their love making at the inn all those weeks ago, floating them off the bed, and had almost lost it if he hadn't held her tighter and told her it was alright, he had Anchored her in that moment and it worked. He had also done it when they had that fight in her old family home. He was her Destiny and her Anchor, keeping her feet firmly planted in the just and good world, and helped give her the power to be unbelievably strong; a power that has to have been given to her somewhere, somehow, for some reason.

“Perhaps there is order to this horse shit.” he said to himself, laying down beside her and pulling her close. He just wasn't sure he should tell her what she'd done at the Battle of Sodden.

They finally made it to the giant fortress of Kaer Morhen, set into the mountains at its back. Both Luna and Mufula looked up at it in awe as they rode closer to it, it was without a doubt a beautiful place despite its ugly past. As they dismounted their horses a lone figure approached them from the shadows.

“Geralt.”

Geralt turned to the voice and chuckled. “Vesemir.”


	16. Kaer Morhen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Minne_ is Love in Elder Speech.
> 
> I chose to reference Henry Cavill's natural eye color for what Geralt's looked like before he became a Witcher. His eyes are so beautiful..

“Who are they?” Vesemir asked, motioning to Luna and Mufula with his head.

“The Elf is a healer.” Geralt said, feeling the tension seeping into his muscles. “and She is my...” he paused, feeling the same uncertainty of introducing Luna he had when she met Jaskier. What was she to him. Lover? Most definitely. Companion? Yes, she'd follow him anyway, if he let her. She was his Destiny, but that sounded cliché, even to his own ears.

“She's..?” Vesemir pressed him, cocking an expecting eyebrow at the younger Witcher.

Geralt decided and settled on a word. “She's my _wife_.”

Luna's expression went from worried about what Vesemir would do and say, to flashing with shock and being startled by Geralt's own words, and was glad to see the same expression on Vesemir's face as well. The two Witchers held each other for a long moment, before Vesemir turned on his heels and started to walk away.

“Walk with me, Geralt.” he called over his shoulder, turning a corner.

Geralt looked at Mufula and gave him an angry look that told him to watch Luna, or lose his head, before he strode off after Vesemir. It took him a moment to catch up with the other Witcher, just because Vesemir was significantly older than Geralt, didn't slow him down in the slightest; Geralt had always wished he'd stay as sharp and agile as Vesemir had when he reached that age.

“What have you done, Geralt.” Vesemir asked, voice dripping with disappointment as Geralt caught up to stride along beside him. “Witchers are not meant for a domesticated life. Our job and lives are not meant or suited for such things.” he scolded him. “What were you thinking.”

Vesemir was one of only three people capable of making Geralt feel smaller than he actually was when things went against the plan that was supposed to always be stuck too; Luna and Jaskier being the other two. So, hearing Vesemir voice it struck him hard.

“I didn't try to or seek it, Vesemir.” Geralt told him, knowing that wasn't entirely true. “When I found Luna after she was attacked by a Kikimora, I had only planned on saving her and going about my way. But, there was a different play in the cards, and we've been together ever since.”

“Witchers and Humans don't mix, Geralt.”

“She's not a Human, Vesemir.” Geralt told him, pulling the older man to a halt. “She's a Mage. A ridiculously powerful Mage, at that. I've seen her wield magic Mages spend centuries trying to learn, eyes deep into scrolls and books, and failed experiments.” he explained, excitedly. “She's done it with little training, and has a pretty decent handle on it.”

“So, you've been put under her spell...”

“It's no spell.” Geralt sighed, trying to figure out how to explain. “Call it Destiny or accidental, but its no magic. I do love her, a great deal, and she loves me as well.”

“And you brought her here to Kaer Morhen.” Vesemir said, studying him.

“Yes.” Geralt nodded, heaving a sigh.

Vesemir narrowed his eyes at the white haired Witcher, he'd known Geralt long enough to know when he was withholding something. “What else is there?”

Geralt ran a hand through his hair, looking away from Vesemir. “She's with child.” he told him. “ _My_ child, Vesemir.”

Vesemir felt like Geralt had struck him with lightning. “She's with _your_ child.” he tried to wrap his mind around it. “How?”

He shrugged his big shoulders, tired from his journey and the drain of this conversation. “We don't know. But, we know I am assuredly the father.”

“Christ, Geralt!” Vesemir barked, and started pacing. “Do you know the repercussions of something like this!” he ranted. “You remember the horde of fanatics that sacked Kaer Morhen to prevent more Witchers from being created and trained, what do you think those bastards would do if they found out there was a way naturally breed us? They'd finish off the remaining Witchers and everyone they came into contact with.”

“They won't find out.” Geralt told him, stubbornly.

“Oh?” Vesemir chided him. “Enlighten me on that plan?”

“It's why I brought her here with me.” Geralt told him, angrily. “It's safer here, so few people, or other Witchers come here now. We're in t he middle of nowhere, and even if they managed to find the trail here, they don't know how to find the trail that prevents them from continuously circling the keep. By the time they even make half a loop, we'll know that they're here.”

“What's the threat to her giving birth to a Witcher's offspring?” he asked.

That gave Geralt pause, like it always did. “We don't know.” he said, softly. “That's why we brought the Elf, he's experienced in pregnancy and has been caring for Luna since the beginning.”

“This is a serious and dangerous situation, Geralt.”

“I know.” he answered. “That's a reason why I came here, at least, I know she's in less danger than she'd be if we were still out there.”

Vesemir groaned, shaking his head and feeling his age. “You know I've always been fond of you, Geralt.” he admitted, looking into Geralt's amber-yellow eyes, he remembered when those eyes were their normal baby blue color, with a fleck of brown in one, before the Witcher transformation. “But, you've also always been a solid gold pain in my ass...”

Geralt snorted, grinning.

“Alright.” Vesemir sighed, giving in. He couldn't rightly turn Geralt away, and if the pure white haired girl was carrying a part Witcher in her belly, then he couldn't turn her away either. “They can stay. Your old room is still as you left it last winter.” he told him.

Geralt gripped Vesemir's shoulder, squeezing. “Thank you, Vesemir.”

“We're the last thin layer of our people, Geralt.” Vesemir said, resting his own hand on Geralt's shoulder. “We need to stick together.”

– –

Vesemir took Mufula down to Guza's rooms below to settle him in, while Geralt took Luna up to the room he stayed in when he visited Kaer Morhen, the room he'd been given when he first arrived at the fortress all those decades ago. A large dark stone room, with a decently sized, rustic framed bed pushed against the only window in the room, a writing desk, a dresser, fireplace and a table with a single candelabra sitting in the middle of it. The walls were mostly bare minus a few pelts and a picture of some landscape above the fire mantle.

“It's not much.” Geralt said, resting his sword case against the wall by the fireplace and shouldering out of his armor.

“Don't need much.” Luna commented, reaching out to touch one of the fur pelts on the wall.

“Werewolf.” Geralt said, standing behind her. “The first I killed.”

“You skinned it?” she asked, turning towards him.

“Of course.” he smiled at her. “I was proud of myself.”

“Tell me the story?” Luna asked, giving him a hopefully look.

Drawing a slow breath through his nose and looking her in the eyes, Geralt nodded his head. “Why don't you sit and I'll rub your feet while I tell you.” he said, moving out of her way, knowing her feet had to be bothering her after being in the saddle so long and the long walk up to his room.

Luna sat down at the little table and let Geralt carefully pull off her boots, holding her small foot in his large calloused hands, pressing his thumbs into the balls of her foot as his fingers kneaded the top of her foot, feeling the small delicate bones shift and pop. She moaned feeling the strain and pain of her foot slowly ease from her arches and ankles, slumping in the chair a bit and propping her other foot in his lap.

“Out...with it.” she moaned and wiggling her toes.

“I was in Lyria, I'd only been on my own after finishing my training less than a decade.” he started, the nostalgia of the memory setting in. “I'd heard about a creature tormenting the area from word of mouth, farmers and the like, whispering about it over the ales at taverns. I was sure it was a werewolf by the way they describe it; mangy, spindly arms and legs, elongated maw, only ever comes out at night, especially a full moon, and claws like the sharpest knives.” he described it, resting the foot he had in his lap and picked up the other one. “So, I found one of the village officials and told him if he gave me three hundred Guldens, I'd kill it for him.”

“They must have been glad to have you deal with it for them.” Luna said, softly, her eyes drifting shut.

“I'm sure they were more glad that I killed it and left.” Geralt snorted. “They weren't at all fond of having me in the area, considered me bad luck.”

Luna huffed, cracking her eyes open to look at him. “I'd have let it live then, and waited for them to beg you to kill it.”

Geralt smiled, slyly at her. “Well, I didn't. I was excited at the prospect of dealing with my first Werewolf.” he told her, massaging her ankle. “So, I did some investigating and found out where the werewolf had been killing several animals in the woods near by. I made a camp a little ways away and stayed there until the creature made its first appearance, it wasn't until two nights later, though.” he rested her foot in his lap with the other one and sat back. “I woke up to Roach, the first Roach that is, not the current Roach...”

“You name all your horses Roach?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking over at him, incredulous.

“Yes.” he nodded. “I tried other names for a few, but it never worked out. So, if it's not broken, don't fix it.”

“You have a point.”

“As I was saying, Roach woke me up making noise, then I heard the most awful sound, so grabbing my sword, I carefully made my way were I heard the sounds coming from. That's when I got a bit of a shock.” he told her. “The Werewolf ended up being the elected official of the village.”

“The same guy that gave you the job?” Luna asked, tilting her head at him.

“No, he was the partner of the one that gave me the job,” he explained. “But, it did add up to way he wanted me out of the area as fast as possible. If I stayed and did the job, his cover would have been blown.”

Luna sat up. “So, let me get this straight. You obviously killed him, but what rubs me is that he was some guy, unfortunate Werewolf, and you skinned him afterwards...”

Geralt gave her an amused and smug grin, his eyes bright. “Well, if he had been cursed as a Werewolf, I would have simply done what I had too, to break it. But, he wasn't. He had been infected by another Werewolf. When someone is infected with the lycanthrope they over time lose themselves and permanently become one. They never regain human form and lose everything that made them human, lost to the animal and monster. They go feral, essentially.” He explained to her, the best he could. “So, he would have become nothing but that creature and gone on a killing spree, if I hadn't killed him. As for skinning him, it was what I was taught to do, their hide is valuable for various reasons, to a variety of people. So, not only did I get the Guldens for dealing with the Werewolf problem, I got some more for the hide. I just kept a bit of it for myself.”

“What did the villagers say when their official didn't come back, or disappeared randomly after you dealt with it?”

“I explained the situation to the one that gave me the job, and he made up whatever excuse for it he came up with.” he told her with a sigh. “You hungry?” he asked, glancing out the window and seeing how dark it had grown.

“Yeah, a bit.” Luna nodded, feeling her stomach rumble.

“Alright, I'll go down to the kitchens and fetch us a bite to eat.” he said, stretching his saddle sore body. 

“Okay, I'm going to change, there's clothes are stiff from the ride and my skin's all gritty.” She told him, getting up and going into their bags on the bed.

Geralt kissed the side of her neck, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his hands gently on her stomach. Luna leaned back against him, groaning as all the strain, exhaustion and emotion of being pregnant washed over her as she started letting herself relax. He rocked her sided to side, head resting on hers as they just melted together and held each other up.

“We'll be alright here, Geralt.” Luna said, tipping her head back to look at him.

“Yes, we will.” he agreed, kissing her one more time before letting her go and going down to get them something to eat.

By the time Geralt came back with a plate of food, a mug of ale for himself and at steaming cup of tea for her, he found her curled up in bed and asleep. Chuckling and setting his armload down on the table and leaned over her, she'd obviously pulled on fresh clothing and washed her face, before laying down to rest for a moment, only to drop off completely, and Geralt couldn't blame her. It was a tiring journey under normal circumstances, let alone making the trek pregnant with a speical baby growing inside her. He brushed her hair out of her face, affectionately, pressing his lips to her brow and cheek, feeling her breathing shift against his cheek, and her wake up.

“Food.” he whispered to her, smiling softly. “Then, rest.”

Nodding and sleepily rubbing her eyes with her fists. Geralt handed her the tea, letting her sip it and munch on the bread and cheese he'd brought her, knowing it settled in her stomach better than other foods, that would just start up a fit of nausea she was prone too. When she finished her tea and ate her fill, she curled up under the heavy blanket on his bed and dropped off before her head hit the pillow. Assured she'd be safe, Geralt took one of his swords from its sheath and left the room, going down to the combat room a floor below, knowing that's where he'd find Vesemir, the old Witcher felt more at peace there, than any place else in the world.

“Looking to fight an old man, Geralt?” Vesemir called as he made it to the door.

“I'm an old man myself, Vesemir.” he chuckled.

“You're still the youngest Witcher left.” Vesemir pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Either way.” Geralt shrugged, spinning his sword in one hand, impatiently.

“So, how is your _wife_?” Vesemir asked, going to one of the weapon racks against the wall.

Geralt's stomach twitched at the word. “She's doing as well as can be expected.” he answered, gripping his sword firmly, lowering and pivoting his hips a fraction, readying his stance as Vesemir picked up a sword from the rack, turning it over in his hand with familiarity.

“How did you manage to convince her father to let you marry her?” he asked, advancing on Geralt, not wasting time with a stance. “You demand it as payment for saving her life?” he feigned to one side and swung for the other, forcing Geralt to turn on his feet in time to block.

“I didn't.” Geralt grunted, pushing Vesemir back several steps. “Her parents are dead. She's been taken care of by a guardian, a Wizard that consulted for her father, and grandfather before him. And he didn't give his blessing to she and I being together until he died, giving her to me to care for.”

“So, he transferred his burden to you, and you married her.” Vesemir said, crossing Geralt's sword and flicked his wrist, shoving their swords apart in a half arching motion.

“She's not a burden.” Geralt growled, twisting and striking out at him, clipping Vesemir's arm and making him stumble back. He stood there panting, more from being angry that Vesemir called Luna a burden, than from the effort of the sword play. “The Destiny, or whatever you want to call it, was that when she and I laid together, the bond between us would be as if we were married, binding our fates that close together, and allowing Luna to obtain the full extent of her magic.”

“So, it's not an officiated marriage.” Vesemir said, looking at the cut on his bicep, shrugged and started at Geralt again.

“No, and it doesn't need to be.” Geralt told him, dodging Vesemir's swings. “I love her as one.”

“And the other woman that had you coming back here last winter like a wounded dog.” Vesemir retorted, overtaking Geralt and pointing his sword at his throat. “What about her?”

“Yennifer and I are on different grounds now.” Geralt said, looking at the point of his sword. “I still care for her, but I no longer love her.”

Vesemir dropped his sword and shook his head at Geralt. “You've spent too much time with Humans, Geralt. You're allowing emotion to command you, blinding you from your job as a Witcher.”

“I am not blind, Vesemir.” Geralt growled, offended. “I still do my job, I still go out and kill monsters and make good coin.” he said, frowning angrily at his back. “What's wrong with having a lover like Luna; you had Mignole before she died.”

“And she died because of my love for her.” Vesemir barked suddenly incensed. “I made her vulnerable with my love, and my enemies killed her for it, to make me suffer.”

“That won't happen to Luna.” Geralt told him, resting his sword against his leg. “She has me to protect her, and when she's not with me, she's more than capable of taking care of herself, I've seen it.”

“I'm just giving you a warning, Geralt.” Vesemir said, looking at him as his anger cooled. “She is vulnerable because of your love for her, and your enemies are hers.”

– –

Luna jerked awake, her eyes wild as she looked around the strange place before her brain cleared out of the nightmare and recognized where she was, Kaer Morhen. She looked down at Geralt, asleep on his side, facing away from her. She reached out and gently touched the various scars that peppered his side and back, Anchoring her back in the present world.

“Hm?” he moaned in his sleep, shifting in response of her touch. “Luna.” he whispered softly.

“Shh, sleep, minne” she whispered, stroking his hair ever so lightly.

She got out a bed and pulling on her robes, carefully opened the door to the room and stepped out. She looked down both ends of the hallway, before deciding to go left. The hall was only lit by four torches hung by the walls, she came to a pair of spiral staircases, one going up an one going down. Seeing the darkness that the bottom one seemed to vanish into, Luna took the top stairs. It was a steep climb, but she made it to a heavy wooden door. She struggled with the door for a moment, but got it opened and found that it led to a balcony over looking the front of the fortress. The wind was cold, even when she hugged her robes around her tighter. The place was actually quiet beautiful, she didn't understand why people gave the place so much negativity. Well, she did, but that was something else. Her let out a soft breath, pressing her hands to the stone railing in front of her, squeezing her eyes shut. A ice cold pain shot through her brain like a spike, her nightmare racing back. She'd only had three nightmares her whole life, so the one that woke her made her the most scared she'd ever been. It was dark, pitch black, just like the one nightmare she always had, the noise, and she can feel the person in it she with her. But, this time she reached them, she touched them. The moment her fingertips rested on them in the darkness it felt like the whole world around her turned upside down.

“ _It's coming_.” it whispered, then a pain ripped through her chest and she woke up.

“Stop.” Luna panted, leaning forward against the rail, the pain growing.

The dizziness made the ground beneath her tilt and shake, she panted as the pain made her eyes water. Her vision started to go black as the voice came back into her head, repeating that it was coming. She balled up her fists and pressed them to her temples, taking several steps back, trying to shaking it off.

“ _You can't run from this_.” it taunted. 

“Stop-it!”

“ _Your time will come_.” it felt like it was everywhere, closing in around her, everything getting tighter and darker. “ _But it will cost you_...”

“NO!” Luna screamed feeling as something squeezed her, a hand shooting out and letting out a surge of magic.

_– –_

Geralt rolled over and found a cold spot where Luna should have been asleep. Sitting up, he scanned the room and found her nowhere. Getting out of bed, Geralt ripped open the door and searched the hallway, taking a deep breath and catching her scent. He strode down the hallway and up the stairs feeling an electric urgency race up his back as he yanked the door open. He found her on the balcony fists pressed to her temples, have crouched in pain and hot tears dripping down her face.

“Luna?” He called to her, carefully reaching out a hand to her, he didn't know if she was sleepwalking in the middle of a nightmare or not, and knew waking a sleepwalking person could be bad. “Luna, it's me.” he whispered, touching her arm.

“Stop-it!” she snapped, staggering back from him.

Geralt frowned, catching her before she tripped, securing his arms around her tightly. “It's alright.” he whispered to her.

“NO!” she screamed her hand coming out with a blue light emanating from her hand.

“Fuck!” Geralt snapped, surprised and just managing to put his hands up and cross his wrists to throw a Heliotrop up, deflecting the surge of magic that came at him.

Luna's back hit the wall of the fortress behind her, slid down the wall and huddled herself up. Her ears still ringing from the noise, the vision so vivid. Geralt lowered his arms and looked at her, his eyes huge with astonishment. He slowly moved to her, dropping to his knees in front of her, pushing her legs apart, grabbed her arms and pulled her against his chest. Luna pressed her arms and face to his chest, tears falling.

“Shhh...” he hushed her, cradling the back of her head. “Shhhh...”

Geralt supported her off the balcony and down the stairs, picking her up in the hallway as her knees gave out. Carrying her back to their bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed, still holding her in his lap. “What happened?” he asked, pressing his cheek to her forehead.

“I had a nightmare.” she whimpered against his shoulder.

“I've never seen you have a nightmare that caused you to use your magic, Luna.” he told her, resting his fingers under her chin and tipping her head back to look at him. “Or, sleep walk.” he added.

Luna blinked and lowered her eyes. “It was a nightmare, Geralt.” she whispered. “That turned into a...vision...I think.” she frowned, the pain still lingering in her mind. “It was the dark one, with the noise. I finally managed to reach and touch whoever it is that's in it with me.”

“Who was it?”

“I don't know. I never saw them, just heard them and felt them.” she told him.

“What did they say then?”

“That it's coming and I can't hide from it.” she told him. “That it was going to cause me to sacrifice something...”

“Hmm.” Geralt pressed his lips together, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her against him.

“I'm afraid, Geralt.” she whispered, resting against him, feeling the baby move inside her. “Afraid what it means.”

Geralt rested his head on top of her head, eyes closing softly. “Everything will be alright, Luna. We are safe here, I promised you that.”

“We are safe here, physically, Geralt.” Luna told him, tired. “This attack is mental.”


	17. Live, and Let Live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaidd mean Wolf. Since Geralt is referred to as the "White Wolf".

Luna watched as Geralt and Vesemir spared in the combat room, her hand resting on her belly, she was seven months, and they'd been at Kaer Morhen for two months. She'd had the same nightmare twice since the first time, but had thankfully not tried to take Geralt's head off again. She smiled feeling the baby kick against her hand, it was an amazing, and comforting feeling. Geralt pushed his hair back out of his sweaty face, spotting Luna by the door, watching him intently.

“Morning.” he smiled, greeting her.

“Morning.” she smile back. “Having fun getting your ass kicked by an old man?” she teased.

“I heard that!” Vesemir called over his shoulder, he and Luna had come to respect each other.

Luna laughed. “Good.” she called back. “I have something to show you.”

“Oh, and what's that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She reached out and took his hand in hers, before carefully pressing it to her stomach. “Give it a moment.” she said, holding his hand there.

Geralt stood there, eyes glued to his hand waiting for whatever it is that was supposed to happen, when he finally felt it. A good thump of something pressing against the palm of his hand, a smile crept across his face, pressing his hand firmer against her belly, wanting to feel the baby kick again. Luna maneuvered his hand a bit lower, letting him feel what she figured was either a elbow or knee glide across her stomach, bulging out a bit.

“Looks like she's possessed.” Vesemir commented, seeing it from where he was standing.

“It feels like it.” Luna chuckled, looking at him. “You two finished or you going to fight a little more?” she asked.

“I think we're going to do a bit more.” Geralt said, looking back at Vesemir, who nodded.

“Alright, I'm going to take my walk.” Luna kissed his cheek and left the Witchers to do their thing.

Luna took a daily walk around the grounds of Kaer Morhen, enjoying the fresh winter air, the quiet from the thick blanket of snow on the ground and the crunch of the white powder under her boot soles. Listening to the winter birds tweet and go from tree to tree was soothing as well. It had been only her, Geralt, Mufula, Vesemir and Guza since they arrived a couple of months ago, while she always enjoyed the company and conversation with Geralt, who'd recently started telling her more about his past, but not about what he remembered before becoming a Witcher; the conversations with Vesemir weren't very proactive, all he talked about was Witcher things, Guza never said a word to her and Mufula usually only talked about Healer things, though she'd started learning some healing spells from him; so that was a bit of a distraction. She'd discovered the old library deep in the fortress, and picked through it, learning about notable Witchers, old experiment journals, that freaked her out, and books about various monsters, where to find them and how to kill them. Her walks were a nice way to clear her mind and not feel like she was in a cage. She stopped and took a big deep breath, feeling the frigid tingle up her nostrils and clear away the webs and stress out of her.

“What is a pregnant woman doing in the snow outside a Witcher's home?” a gravelly voice asked from the treeline.

Luna snapped around, scanning the treeline for the voice and frowned as a tall black haired and bearded man stepped forward. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach as she took a step back away from him, turning herself so she slowly moved back towards Kaer Morhen. “Who are you?” she asked, looking him over.

“Dansa.” he answered, looking her over. “A Witcher.” he told her, pulling his wolf medallion from his inside his shirt and showing it to her. “So, I answered your question, you going to answer mine?” he asked, eyeing her.

Luna pulled Geralt's medallion from inside her cloak and showed it to him. “I'm supposed to be here.” she told him.

“You're here with Geralt of Rivia.” Dansa nodded, looking up at the keep. “I haven't seen him in years. But, What's he doing with a pregnant woman?”

“That's none of your concern.” Luna told him, setting her face like marble.

“Oh really.” He grinned, impressed by her courage.

“Yeah, really.” Luna nodded, not feeling threatened by him, and continued on her walk.

“I love a Human with guts.” he called, following behind her.

“And I'd love you to fuck off.” Luna snapped over her shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, come on.” Dansa teased, picking up his pace to walk beside her. “Give me a hint. I'll make it worth your while.” he said, pulling a small bag of coin from his pocket. “Every wrong answer I get, I'll give you a coin.” he grinned at her.

Luna narrowed her eyes at the Witcher, glancing at the coin bag. She didn't want his coin, but she'd humor him, for the sake of boredom and fresh contact with anyone. “Alright, you're on. But, I'm still walking.”

“Fair, it's too damn cold to stand in one spot too long, anyway.” he said, tugging open the strings of the pouch. “Alright, first question, how do you Geralt?” he said, jingling the coins. “Seduced him at a whore house?”

Luna looked at him with a bland, unimpressed expression and held her hand out, motioning for him to fork over a coin; smiling as he cursed and handed it to her. “Horrid answer.” Luna huffed, pocketing the coin.

“Hey, that's how us Witcher's get our bodily wants fulfilled, just like the next person.” Dansa replied. “And nine out of ten times, only whores are willing enough, with enough coin, to relieve us of that burden.” he explained, looking her over again. “But, I can see you're clearly not one of them.”

“Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment.” Luna rolled her eyes. “So, hint. We met in the woods.”

“The _woods_?” he frowned at her, bewildered.

“Yes, the woods.” Luna told him, pressing a hand to her stomach as the baby kicked her hard in the navel.

“The woods...the woods...” Dansa kept repeating it over and over. “You're a witch that lives in the woods and put a spell on him.”

“Defiantly not.” Luna shook her head. “That's two wrong answers, so you owe me two coins.”

“Christ, you're a stickler.” Dansa exhaled, dropping the coins into her hand. “So, you met him in the woods...” he narrowed his eyes, contemplating and stroking his beard. “Daytime or nighttime?”

“Night.” Luna told him, straightening up her back as it ached.

“In the woods, at night....hmm.” he twisted the hairs of his beard out of habit. “Were you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Alone, at night...in the woods...” He chewed his lip. “Were you attacked by something?”

“Yes, I was.”

“Ha!” Dansa proclaimed, confident. “So, if you were attacked, alone, at night, by yourself, and Geralt of Rivia, a master Witcher found you, he'd have to have slain whatever it was to rescue you...”

“You're getting warming.” she forced a chuckle.

“I'll have it in less than three questions.” Dansa said, smiling at her triumphantly, but his smiled faded a bit, seeing her face. “Are you well?” he asked, lightly resting his hand on her shoulder.

“I'm pregnant.” Luna groaned. “It's not rainbows and unicorns. The baby is just really kicking up, I'll be fine.” she told him, brows wrinkling together in discomfort. “That counted as one of your three questions.”

“That's not fair!” Dansa frowned, deflating a bit.

“Life isn't fair.” Luna told him. “What's your next question.”

“What did the creature smell like?” he asked, eyeing her warily.

“Hm.” Luna pressed her lips together, Geralt's signature grunt rubbing off on her. “Wet...reeking...” she shrugged a shoulder. “I don't quite recall.”

“No worries.” Dansa waved it off. “How big was it?”

“Huge. Legs for days, god awful screeching...” She told him, stopping for a moment.

“A Kikimora?” he asked, narrowing eyes at her, looking for any hint he was right.

“That it was.” Luna nodded, rubbing her back.

“So, Geralt rescued you from a Kikimora, and what?” Dansa pressed. “Did he demand you stay with him for payment of something?”

“No, not quite.” Luna shook her head, starting to walk again and holding out her hand.

“Damn it.” Dansa hissed, dropping the coin in her palm. “Hint?” he pleaded.

“It's something Geralt doesn't believe in.” she told him, rubbing her stomach.

“Fuck me, that could be bloody anything!” Dansa exclaimed, vexed.

Luna laughed, then sighed. “Destiny.” she whispered, blinking hard.

“Oh yeah, if there's one thing that Geralt hates and gets his dander up, is when people start rambling on about Destiny and Fate, and all that bullshit.” Dansa nodded. “I don't believe in that smoke and mirror shit either.” he babbled, looking up the sky.

Luna stopped and Dansa turned back to look at her, when he realized she wasn't beside him any more. He opened his mouth to ask her another question, when the deep smell of something sweet and metallic hit his keen nostrils. He looked her over and saw the source of the smell, blood and a clear-ish fluid seeped into the fabric of her leggings and dripped between her legs, leaving a dark red spot in snow.

“Holy Christ!” Dansa snapped, adrenaline whooshing through his body as he moved closer to her. “What that fuck is that?”

“My water's broken.” Luna panted, and paled as a pain stabbed through her lower back. “This isn't good, I'm not far enough along.” she moaned, carefully easing herself to a knee, huddling up as the pain wash over her. “Dansa,...” she whined between gritted teeth. “You need to get Geralt.” She wheezed.

“Fuck that!” Dansa barked, cramming his coin pouch back into his pocket, and leaned down to pick her up. “I can't leave you out here to go find Geralt. You'll either bleed to death, by then, or the wolves would have scented out your blood and attacked you.” he told her, carrying her back inside of Kaer Morhen as fast as he could without slipping on hidden patches of ice, and dropping her.

– –

Dansa hastily carried Luna into Kaer Morhen and down to Guza's surgery. “Guza! We've got a issue! Come quick!!” He yelled, laying her down on the table in the room.

“What's this?” Guza asked, coming out from a closed off section of the surgery, where he lived. “Ms. Luna, what's happened?” he asked, frowning down at her as she tensed up through another pain.

“My water broke.” she winced through her teeth.

“Good God!” Guza said, instantly frantic. “Dansa, there is an Elf on the second floor, go and tell him, he is needed, desperately. Then, once you've told him that, go and tell Geralt and Vesemir.” he told the Witcher, going to his shelves and cabinets of herbs and other things he used for healing. “Worry not, Luna. All will be well.” he told her, throwing random things into his mortar and crushing them with the pestle.

Dansa ran like made up the stairs to the second floor, searching for Mufula. “Elf! Elf, where are you!” He yelled, searching rooms.

Mufula popped out of a room on the very end of the hall and rose a quizzical eyebrow at the Witcher in his frenzy. “I am here, Witcher. What is it that you need?” he asked, stepping out of his room.

“It's the pregnant lady...”

“Luna?” Mufula said, frowning harder as something settled in his chest.

“Yes, yes! Her.” Dansa panted, out of breath. “Her waters broke, she's in the surgery with Guza, who told me to tell you, to get down there.” he rushed out in a single breath, Mufula just barely understood him.

“Oh, dear!” Mufula said, startled. “I'll go down there now.” he said, pushing past Dansa, and running down the hall and down to the surgery. 

Taking a second to catch his breath, Dansa raced up two floors, looking for Geralt in his room, but found it empty. Groaning, he ran back down a floor and into the combat room where Vesemir currently had Geralt in a head lock. The two fighting Witchers looked at Dansa as he slid to a stop in the door way, bending over and wheezing, all his effort exhausted.

“What's a miss, Dansa?” Vesemir asked, letting Geralt go.

Dansa pointed a heavy arm at Geralt, taking several breaths before being able to speak again. “L-Luna...in-in the surgery.” he panted. “Guza..tol-told me to fetch Geralt.”

Geralt's anger instantly flared, taking Dansa by the jerkin and slamming him against a pillar, their noses touching. “What's happened to her?” he asked, clenched teeth.

“She-She's....Her-Her wa-waters bro-broke.” Dansa groaned, feeling a rib break from the impact. “Don't kill the-the messenger, Ger-Geralt.”

Growling, Geralt threw Dansa aside and rushed out of combat room and towards the surgery. He heard Luna's scream before his foot hit the first stair down into the surgery and it pierced him like a sword through his gut. His feet didn't even seem to touch the stairs as he charged down them. Halting in the door way, he saw Luna laying on the table, curled up in agony, her legs and leggings stained with blood and fluid. For the real first time in his life, Geralt of Rivia felt severely useless.

“What can I do?” he whispered to Mufula.

“There is nothing you can do, just now, Witcher.” Mufula told him, holding a cup to Luna's lips. “This will help the pain.” he whispered to her as she drank it. “I'm going to have to look at what's happening, so I must remove her leggings.” he explained to Geralt.

“Guza, leave.” Geralt snapped, toneless at the Witcher Healer. “If we need you, we'll find you, but get out.”

Guza looked between Luna and Geralt, but wasn't about to fight Geralt on the matter, he'd lose badly. Nodding, Guza left Luna, Geralt and Mufula in the surgery. Mufula moved down carefully pulling the bindings of her leggings free and gently peeling off the ruined article of clothing; dropping it carelessly on the floor at his feet. He pushed Luna's legs up, bending them at the knees, eyes flaring at the blood flowing from her, his gut twisting.

“This will be uncomfortable.” Mufula warned Luna, looking over her swollen and pulsating stomach.

“This literally can not get anymore painful, Mufula.” Luna hissed, gripping the sides of the table as she felt her stomach turned into a rock, another contraction overcoming her.

“Fair enough.” he answered, tilting and nodding his head in agreement.

He carefully pushed two fingers into her cervix, he could feel the air on his back warm as Geralt stood impossibly close behind him, looming protectively. Shaking off the feeling of fear, Mufula focused on Luna and the Baby. He, as gently as possible, checked how dilated she was. He was shocked to feel how far along she was already, ordinarily for a first mother it took a very long time to reach it, and Luna's seemed to have just started to happen. He moved away, washing his hands in a water basin. He didn't have a good feeling about this labor, it was too early and too quick, but then again, it wasn't an ordinary pregnancy either. Luna was a powerful mage with a considerable amount of magic coursing through her body, on top of the mutated genes of Geralt, it was an unprecedented pregnancy and he was flying by the seat of his pants through it as much as everyone else was. He busied himself, looking at various herbs and odd jars, he didn't know what he was looking for, he wasn't really looking for anything, he just had to figure out what to do and tell them.

“Well?” Geralt rasped, gripping Luna's hand.

“She's presenting the child much faster than she should.” Mufula said, hoping that his voice sounded calm and confident. “Her labor pains have just started, but she's already eight centimeters, usually that takes hours for a new mother, but being this isn't usual.” he stopped feeling himself start to babble. “Two more centimeters and she'll be ready to push and birth the baby.”

“I want to fucking push now.” Luna howled, squeezing Geralt's hand has hard as she could, he didn't even seem to feel it as he stared at the Elf.

“You can not.” Mufula told her, turning to her. “If you do it could be dire.” he groaned. “More dire than it is now.”

“How dire?” Geralt asked, in a level voice.

Mufula's shoulder raised for a moment, then dropped heavily. “I'm unsure if one will survive.”

“Fuck.” Geralt gulped, a hot stone in his stomach.

Luna looked up at him, between contractions and panting. She had been preparing for this moment and the possibilities it would create, when she did finally arrive at the moment. She squeezed Geralt's hand gently, and reached up to stroke his cheek. He looked down at her, head tilting into her touch, he saw it in her eyes, she had made peace with this; even though he desperately hadn't. He was forced to admit he couldn't protect her, or shoulder the pain she was in, so she would be alright. He squeezed her hand, a small, but noticeably, quiver to it, he couldn't live without her. He refused too.

“You promised, Geralt.” Luna said, resting her head back.

“I know I did, Luna.” he replied, swallowing twice at a hard lump in his throat.

“Fuuucccccck!” Luna howled, every part of her tensing and curling up on her as a very hard contraction hit her, making her skin feel like it was on fire and tearing it to shreds.

Geralt winced at her pain, feeling it as if it was his own. He stroked her forehead, pushing away damp hair from her sweaty face. He tried to offer as much support as he could, holding her hand and talking softly to her through contractions, soothing her. Luna's energy was wearing out and it was hard to stay conscious, the pain was too much and the blood kept flowing at a scary rate. Mufula did his best to make Luna comfortable, slow the bleeding and making sure the baby is alright. What ultimately felt like an eternity to the three, was only an hour, when Luna sat up, pulling her legs up more and bared down, her body was ready to push and didn't care what any of them said.

“Luna, you must reframe from pushing.” Mufula told her, his alert reaching a fevered pitch.

“Fuck you, you pointed eared prick!” she barked, giving him a look that would have made the Devil shit himself. “I'm not doing this on purpose, but I'm not stopping, either.” she said relaxing and panting hard, her eyes rolling shut, her body felt like she was turning into heavy stone.

“Geralt.” Vesemir appeared at the foot of the stairs, his eyes politely on Geralt, and not Luna.

He looked at Luna uncertainly, not wanting to let go of her hand, like he could keep her alive by holding it. Mufula nodded at the Witcher and took Luna's other hand, he'd become strangely fond of her, and felt Geralt's fear of her dying. Especially, if she died that the Witcher would kill him for not healing her. Reluctantly, Geralt let go and went to Vesemir.

“How is she?” the Old Witcher asked, meeting Geralt's eyes.

“Still alive.” Geralt said, quietly. “She's lost a great amount of blood and she's tiring from the pain and contractions.” he told him, looking back at her, worry etching the Witcher's face.

“Is there anything that can be done?” Vesemir asked, glancing at her. “Anything I can do?”

“No.” Geralt told him, wordlessly.

Luna sat up again, palms pressed to the table beneath her, all three men tensed as they watched her; then time seemed to suspend around them. She took a long deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity, every muscle in her body tensing, her face twisting into a look of tired, determined agony and she pushed, letting out a long excruciating yell. Mufula only had so much time to maneuver himself between her legs, hands cupped and reaching out, catching the head, and with an audible whooshing gush, the baby slipped free and Luna fell back on the table heavily, and passing out. Mufula caught the baby in his arms, instinctively cradling its bloody and slippery body against his chest, and got up. Laying the baby down on another table, Mufula checked it over and his entire soul crumbled, his shoulders slumping. Geralt saw the shoulder drop and was beside him in a second, looking the baby over, and saw what had the Elf did.

“Can you save him?” Geralt asked, identifying the little thing, as a boy.

“No.” Mufula choked, burning tears filling his brown eyes, carefully tracing around the baby's chest. “I don't think so.”

“Try.” Geralt barked, his anger bubbling up around his terror. “You have to try!”

“Geralt...” Vesemir called, taking a step forward.

“I made a promise, Vesemir!” Geralt yelled, his eyes blurred. “I promised her.”

“Geralt..” Vesemir whispered, pain staining his own voice. “The child will not live like that. Even if the Elf manages to safe it tonight, he will not survive after, you know this.” he told the Witcher, as gently as he could.

“I promised.” Geralt whimpered, tears dripping from his face.

Vesemir cupped Geralt's face in his hands. “Save Luna.” he whispered. “If she survives, you can try for a child again. Remember what your ma told you.” he said, dropping his hands to Geralt's shoulders. “ _Live, and let Live_.”

All the will rushed out of Geralt, he looked at his son, heart beating four times slower than the normal Human's, a heart he wore on the outside of his teeny body. His head dropped to his chest, hands tightening into fists as he tried to regain control of himself.

“Save Luna.” He whispered. “I promised to make the hard choices, if she could not, for the sake of my son's life, but just as important, her own.” he said, looking up at Mufula. “Save her.”

Mufula nodded, stepping away from the baby and going back to Luna, setting about to help her finish off the after birth and worked to stop her bleeding and trying and save her. Geralt stepped closer to his son, and carefully picked him up in his arms. He ran a gentle finger down the bridge of his nose, traced the curve of his lips, his thumb brushing over the closed eyelids; cradling his head in the palm of his hand seeing the faint, translucent white hair. He was beautiful, and he was his and Luna's son.

“I'll name you,” Geralt whispered to him, caressing his cheek. “ _Blaidd_.” he said, carefully pressing his lips to his son's forehead.

“I am sorry, Geralt.” Vesemir said, his heart hurting for the Witcher he'd always considered a son.

Geralt carefully sat down still cradling Blaidd, watching his heartbeat slower and slower, his hands shaking and his stomach wanting to empty itself with anger and grief. He just nodded at Vesemir, determined to keep looking at his son until he stopped breathing, determined he'd be the last thing he felt, letting him feel how much he loved him, and the agony of having to let him go. Pressing his lips together, Vesemir excused himself and went quietly back upstairs. Mufula finally managed to get Luna's bleeding under control and was somewhat sure she'd recover, but to what extent he didn't know. He turned and looked at Geralt, who was still cuddling Blaidd in his arms.

“I think Luna would more comfortable in your own rooms.” the Elf spoke quietly and slowly. “I can ask Dansa to help move her there.” he said, staring down at his blood stained hands, he wasn't squeamish, but, seeing Luna and the Baby's blood on his hands made his skin crawl, so he hastily washed it away.

“Don't bother.” Geralt said, as Mufula mounted the stairs.

“Pardon?” he asked, frowning at the Witcher.

“I said,” Geralt said in a steadier voice. “Don't bother. I'll take her back, I don't anyone else touching her.”

“An-and the baby?” Mufula asked, sheepish.

Geralt stood up and moved over to him. “Take him.” he said, quietly. “Vesemir will prepare the burial for him.”

“Do you not wish to allow Luna to see him?” the Elf frowned, tilting his head.

Geralt looked over at Luna, bloody and unconscious, then shook his head. “No. No, I think it's best she doesn't. She'll only blame herself more than she already will.” he said, carefully handing Blaidd into Mufula's arms, leaning in to kiss his forehead one more time, before turning his attention to Luna.

He found a blanket to wrap her in, since her pants were ruined, and carefully wrapped it around her and picked her up into his arms, he could feel the weight difference now that she was no longer pregnant and it make Geralt swallow, hard. He carried her up the stairs and found Dansa at the top of them, looking worried. Geralt looked at the other Witcher, who returned his gaze, his eyes saying he already knew, and respectfully nodded his head at Geralt, his hand pressing to his heart.

“Thank you, Dansa.” Geralt whispered, then walked away.

Geralt laid Luna down on their bed, and grabbed a basin of water and cloth, gently washing away the blood and birthing matter from her legs. When he finished he tossed the cloth into the fire, not needing Luna finding it, and sat down, watching her, monitoring her. Luna didn't wake until the next night, she was groggy and sore, her brain not connecting where she was, but became acutely aware that something part of her was missing, the weight inside of her, was no longer there, she slowly sat up and looked around for any sign of the baby, but only found Geralt sitting in the chair beside her, his eyes resting on hers. He looked terrible. He hadn't slept or ate, he barely even moved from where he sat, waiting for Luna to wake up.

“Geralt, where's....” she started, the fog in her mind clearing, but tears started swelling as she trailed off seeing his face get a fraction sadder and more grief poke through his tough wall. “No.” she said, slowly denial and grief overrunning her. She struggled out of bed, Geralt getting up from his stool as she did.

“No, Geralt.” She said louder, her breathing growing heavier.

He licked his dry lips. “ _He_ didn't survive, Luna.” he whispered in a cracked voice. 

“ _He_?” she whimpered, her mouth hanging open. “It was a boy?”

Geralt nodded, feeling dizzy. “Yes.”

“What happened?” she asked, her eyes bright as tears dripped down her face. “What happened to my son.”

“He was born,” Geralt started, steadying himself. “With his heart on the outside of his body. He wouldn't survive, no matter what we did....”

“Did you try!?” Luna yelled, breaking.

“It would have only prolonged his life, Luna. He would _not_ have survived.” he tried to tell her, watching the angry pain take a hold of her.

“You promised!”

“And I kept my promise, Luna!” Geralt yelled back, unable to contain himself. “I made the hard choices, like I told you I would! I kept my promise that even if I didn't want to make them, that I had too make them for the sake of our son, _and_ you.” he shook with pent up emotion. “The hard choice was letting him go, to live and let live; and to save you.”

Luna came at Geralt pounding her fists against his chest, but Geralt barely registered them, he stood there and let her. “I hate you!” she screamed, hitting him as hard as she could. “I fucking hate you!”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Geralt wrapped his arms around her, trapping her arms between them and restraining her. She struggled against him, cussing him out and telling him how much she hated him for keeping his promise. But, Geralt knew she didn't mean it, so he just held her.

“I hate you.” she growled at him, her eyes turning black as she lost control.

Geralt stood there holding her, watching her eyes change, and waited for whatever it was she was about to do. She tensed her body and strained to get out of his arms, but he just held her tighter. He looked her in the eyes, letting his walls down and letting her in the fortress he'd hidden himself for so long behind, letting her see how dead inside he felt for what happened. She dropped her forehead against his chest, and screamed at the top of her lungs, making Geralt's sensitive ears ache. She stopped screaming and went utterly limp against him, her eyes returning as she lost the will to do anything, anymore. Geralt bent his head, pressing his lips to the top of her head, and let his tears flow, dripping into her hair.

“I named him.” he whispered after several moments. “I named him, Blaidd.” he told her, his hands rubbing her back and rocking them back and forth. “It means Little Wolf.”

“Because you are the Big Wolf.” she mumbled, spent, against his chest.

“Yes.” Geralt nodded.

“I don't hate you, Geralt.” she said, turning her face fully into his chest.

“I know you don't, Luna.” he whispered back, sitting back on the stool, holding her in his lap. “We can always try again.” he said, delicately.

Luna heaved a sigh. “I don't want too, Geralt.” she told him, wrapping her arms around his waist, clinging on to him. “Not for a long time, at least.”

Geralt nodded, stroking her hair and neck. “I'm alright with that.” He told her, honestly. The thought of trying for a baby, since they hadn't tried for Blaidd, made him uneasy. He wasn't ready or willing to risk her life again. “I don't know what life we could really give them.”

“Well, now we really won't know.” she told him, biting her lip.

Geralt caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears. He wanted to give her a child, he felt she deserved it. But, the price was too high to risk. Perhaps one day, they'll have the opportunity to settle down, try again and give that child a better life than what they could have given Blaidd. He pressed his lips to her warm forehead and pushed the thoughts aside. 

All he cared about now, was Luna.


	18. Anchor

It had been a hard two weeks, and Luna visited Blaidd's grave every single one of those days. They'd buried him the morning after she recovered, in the Witcher's Grave yard on the West side of Kaer Morhen; a simple wooden marker with his name carved in it, sat at the head of the grave. Winter was coming to an end soon, and she and Geralt would be on the road again, going North of the Continent to find where a Witcher maybe needed as the monster problem increased with the melting of the snow. She'd been walking back inside when she heard a whoosh coming from behind her, and frowned seeing that it was Yennifer. She waited where she was, by the door into the keep, watching the Violet eyed Mage came closer to her.

“What are you doing here, Yennifer?” she asked, as Yennifer came into hearing range.

“Where is Geralt?” she asked, out of breath from the effort of portalling.

“Inside.” Luna told her, motioning to the door with her head. “We're getting ready to head out to the north, tomorrow. What's wrong?”

“I need to talk to Geralt.” Yennifer repeated, striding for the door.

“Fair enough.” Luna sighed, not in the mood to argue with anyone, and followed her inside.

Luna showed Yennifer to her and Geralt's rooms. “Geralt, we have a visitor.” she said, pushing open the door and stepping aside to let Yennifer in.

“Yen.” Geralt said, startled. “What are you doing here? Why aren't you in Aretuza?”

“I'm not in Aretuza because we have an issue.” Yennifer addressed him. “Ciri is missing.”

Geralt's eyes became as big as plates, Luna sharing a similar expression. “Missing? What the fuck do you mean she's missing!” he barked.

“Aretuza was attacked by Nilfgaard.” Yennifer explained. “Several of the Mages and students were killed in the fight. When it was over, those of us left checked for survivors and realized that Ciri was nowhere to be found. Not with the dead or with the surviving group.”

Geralt let out a hard short breath and squeezed his eyes shut. First losing Blaidd, almost losing Luna, and now the prospect of losing Ciri; he felt far too old for these stresses. He paced back and forth, unable to stand still with his agitation over the situation. He knew he should have brought the Princess with him and Luna to Kaer Morhen, he's supposed to protect them both, another thing he's failed at. He had to get her back, at all cost.

“Do you know where she might have been taken?” Luna asked, feeling Geralt's frustration.

“No, they left no clues where she'd might be, or why she was taken.” Yennifer answered. “But, I feel it's something to do with her being Queen Calanthe's heir and her powers.” she explained. “Wouldn't your Nilfgaardian brother know anything?”

“Nik has more than likely been hold up in the Nazair mountains all winter.” Luna replied.

“Doesn't mean he won't know something.” Yennifer countered. “If he even told the truth about it.”

“Hard to do with a twin.” Luna told her, raising an eyebrow. “Only way he can lie to me is by keeping his mouth shut.”

“I'd make him talk.” Geralt growled, the tiny amount of respect he had for Luna's brother becoming tested again. He looked at Luna, biting the inside of his lip as he looked at her, unsure. “Do you feel strong enough to portal us there, Luna?” he asked, reluctantly.

“Why wouldn't she be strong enough?” Yennifer asked, narrowing her eyes and looking between the two. She caught Geralt's quick glance at Luna's now flat stomach. “You had the baby? Where is it?”

Luna gulped, her heart twisting. “He didn't make it.” she whispered, feeling the ache she'd been trying to forget throb anew.

Yennifer's shoulders slowly dropped, and a look of profound hurt and sympathy crossed her face. “I am so sorry.” She whispered back, looking at Luna for a moment, then to Geralt, who didn't meet her eye.

“I should be fine, Geralt.” Luna said, shouldering the pain.

“Can you make it there and back?” Yennifer asked.

“If I can make it there, I'll be able to bring us back.” Luna assured her.

“Alright.” Geralt sighed, moving to strap on his armor and slinging his sword across his back. “Let's go.” he said, readying himself.

Luna took a slow deep breath through her nose, focusing her magic and making her hands glow before the portal appeared between the three of them. “Go.” she whispered, her voice a bit strained.

Geralt motioned for Yennifer to go first and glanced at Luna before stepping through the portal himself. Stepping forward, Luna released some of her magic and stepped through the portal, it blinking out of existence behind her. They weren't far from the Nilfgaardian camp, so they walked the rest of the way on foot. The Guards at the entry of the camp stopped them, but recognized Luna and Geralt and let them through, with Yennifer in tow. Picking their way through the camp, they finally reached the tent Nicolas stayed in, and without calling out for permission, walked into the tent. Finding Nicolas leaning over a map with another person, startling the both of them.

“Luna.” Nicolas frowned, seeing the group. “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at Kaer Morhen.”

“I was, but a pressing matter presented itself and we figured the one person that might actually know something about it, would be you.” she explained, looking him over. “Can we talk privately?” she asked, motioning to the other man beside him.

“Of course.” Nicolas nodded. “You're dismissed, Simon.” he waved the man out of his tent. “So, what is it I can do for you, Sister?” he asked, going over to a table and pouring himself a drink. “I'm hoping my little niece or nephew is doing well.” he added, raising the glass in salute.

“He didn't live.” Luna told him, an edge in her voice. “We need to know about a Nilfgaard attack on the Mage institution, Aretuza.” she said, not giving him time to ask about Blaidd or give her condolences, she was tired of hearing it, it wouldn't bring him back and it didn't make her feel better.

Nicolas frowned, setting down his glass and going to his desk, rifling through a pile of letters and scrolls on his desk. “Ah, here we are.” He said, to himself, pulling out a letter from the pile. “One of the Nilfgaardian generals ordered the attack, stating that Aretuza was a threat to the Nilfgaardian path and needed to be either subdued or eliminated.” he read the gist of the letter, and held it out to them, so they could read it themselves.

“It doesn't say anything about taking hostages.” Yennifer said, reading over Geralt's arm.

“Nilfgaard rarely takes prisoners, unless said person is of some value to us, or can be converted to our side.” Nicolas explained, not bothered by the prospect.

“What would the advantage of taking a young Princess, have to Nilfgaard?” Geralt asked, tossing the letter back onto the cluttered desk.

Nicolas pressed his lips together, thinking. “Well, there's been whispering from up in the higher ranked people, other than myself, of some kind of weapon, well, _two_ weapons.” he corrected himself, eyeing Luna. “But, one of them is notoriously dangerous and stubborn.” a smug smile on his face.

“And I'm staying that way.” Luna smiled tightly back.

“Still find it a shame.” he countered.

“What about this other _weapon_?” Yennifer asked, annoyed at the Twins' banter, something Geralt had grown accustomed too.

“Shows potential of being easier to influence than Luna, here.” Nicolas told her, with a nod at his sister. “The young usually are. Powers not quite trained, so capable of being molded into whatever Nilfgaard would want it to be.” he ticked off the reasons. “Why?”

“Nilfgaard kidnapped a girl from Aretuza that fits that exact description.” Yennifer told him, really not liking him.

“You know this girl?” Nicolas asked, tilting his head, interested.

“She's my Child Surprise.” Geralt growled at him.

Nicolas's eyes flared and his brows pulled together. “Well, that changes a lot of things.” he sighed. “But, I don't know where they could have taken her, she's been taken by high ranking Nilfgaardian members. Way above my position to be in on.”

Geralt and Yennifer looked to Luna, who shrugged. “He's telling the truth.”

“Do you know _where_ they might take her?” Geralt asked, clenching a hand into a fist, trying to fight the urge to shove his fist through Nicolas's smug face.

Nicolas shrugged, “There's several disclosed locations Nilfgaard has to hold a prisoner captive.” he told them, sitting behind his desk and propping his feet up. “I only know of one of them, and you'd probably be smart to avoid it currently.”

“And why's that?” Yennifer asked, impatiently.

“It's currently under siege.” he commented, looking at her with an insignificant look. “The Queen of Lyria and Rivia mustered her army and marched to the bridge of Yaruga, she lost a great many men in the fight, before retreating into the hills and forest surrounding. But, she's maintained enough men, and received enough rebel help, to start a guerrilla tactical fight.” he informed them. “Been fighting ever since. The place is Caed Dhu, the Black Forest.”

“They hold prisoners on an island full of druids.” Geralt summed up, raising an eyebrow at him.

“The druids there fled to south to Loch Monduirn.” Nicolas answered, not frightened by Geralt, he'd seen far scarier things than the tough Witcher in his time with Nilfgaard.

“Why are you divulging information so vital to Nilfgaard.” Yennifer asked, dubiously.

“Because he knows if he lies to me, I'll call his sorry ass out, and it's easier than trying to fight me on it.” Luna told her, eyes glued to her brother's.

“You see,” Nicolas smiled, beaming at his sister. “Between her and I, she's actually the dominant twin. She doesn't need her cute little powers to do a damn thing to me, just our bond.”

“Hm.” Luna hummed, grinning back at him, rounding his desk and bracing herself on each arm of Nicolas's chair, bringing her face inches from his. “What do you know about the battle of Yaruga?” she asked, her breath warm on his face, and feeling the spark pass through their bond, daring him to lie to her, or she'd let Geralt finally beat the words out of him.

“ _Nilfgaard's been cut off from crossing the bridge because of Queen Meve's guerrilla fighters. But, the Queen is losing many men, though she's expected to receive aid from Mahakam._ ” he explained to her in their own language.

“What the fuck are they saying?” Yennifer asked, her head snapping to Geralt, who's eyes held the Twins steadily.

“I don't know.” Geralt answered. “It's a language of their own.”

“How do you know they aren't plotting together?”

“Yennifer, Luna's more than proved herself as an ally against Nilfgaard.” he replied, an edge in his voice. “Leave her be.”

“ _How long until Mahakam reaches them_?” Luna asked, holding tight to him in their bond.

“ _Last Nilfgaardian scout reported three to four days_.” Nicolas informed her. “ _And, worry not, sister. I won't tell a soul_.” he promised.

“You better not.” Luna snapped, switching back to the regular language. “Or I'll let Geralt cut your hands off.” she warned. “Nilfgaard can't get supplies across their side of the river, because of Queen Meve's men. But, her men are dwindling down and won't be able to receive back up from Mahakam for almost four days.” she told Geralt and Yennifer.

“If we round up what's left of the Mages and meet Mahakam there to help aid the Queen, perhaps we can take the bridge, shove Nilfgaard back and rescue Ciri from them.” Yennifer said, thinking it over.

“That's a load to fucking do.” Nicolas chimed in behind them.

“Shut up, Nikki.” Luna snapped over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. Geralt looked at Luna amused. “What are you grinning about?”

“Just hearing how much I've rubbed off on you.” he admitted.

“You've done more than rub off on me.” She said, a smile forcing its away across her face despite how angry she wanted to be; Ciri had become as important to her, as she was important to Geralt. “How long will it take to get from Kaer Morhen to the bridge?”

“Two days at full ride.” Geralt answered, growing serious again. “Two and a half, tops.”

“Not horrid.” Luna shrugged. “I can portal us back to Kaer Morhen, and Yennifer, you can portal back to Aretuza and gather what Mages you can.” she said, looking at the other woman, meeting her eyes.

Yennifer nodded in agreement, and portalled away.

“Look at you, Sister. Becoming all I knew you could be.” Nicolas grinned.

Luna rolled her eyes at her brother, turning to look at Geralt, seeing his murderous gaze on Nicolas, and chuckled. “There's way too much testosterone in this damn tent.” she commented, opening a portal.

Geralt stepped closer to the portal, but raised his first three fingers and let out a pulse of magic, knocking Nicolas back out his his chair, before stepping through. Luna roared with laughter, “God, I love him.” she gasped, stepping through the portal herself.

Nicolas got up from his chair, leaning against his table, laughing himself. “I give the Witcher credit.”

– –

Geralt and Luna made it to Queen Meve's camp by the night of the second day, having ridden nearly nonstop since they left Kaer Morhen. It was a tense moment when the guards of the camp pulled weapons on the pair, until Meve herself appeared. 

“Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked.

“I'm Geralt and this is my wife, Luna.” he introduced them, finding it easier to introduce Luna as such.

“They're with us, your majesty.” Yennifer's voice called behind her. “They're the two I was telling you about.”

“Very well.” Queen Meve nodded, turning away. “Escort them to my tent and care for their horse.”

Geralt dismounted Roach and handed Luna down after him, they left Charlie back in Kaer Morhen with Vesemir, finding it easier to take as little as possible and safe time riding together on Roach alone.

“Why did you introduce her as your wife, Geralt?” Yennifer asked, as Geralt handed the reins to one of the guards.

“Because she is.” Geralt told her, not wishing to get into it with her. “Let's go talk to the Queen.” he said, protectively taking Luna's hand, unsure what they'd encountered in the camp.

“So, Geralt the Witcher and his wife, Luna.” Meve called as Geralt, Luna and Yennifer entered her tent, she leaned against a map on the table in front of her. “A Witcher's skill with a blade and killing monsters is handy, but what is it that you do?” she asked, looking at Luna.

Luna raised an eyebrow at the Queen, her hand coming out and slowly turned palm up, causing the tankard of ale by the Queen's arm to raise up, moving her arm out, making the tankard move away from her, curled her hand into a fist, crushing it and then snapping her hand out wide, fingers spread, causing the tankard to shatter into several little pieces, splashing ale across the map.

“Is that good enough for you?” Luna asked, giving her a blank look.

“That's more than enough.” Queen Meve said, putting a hand out to steady the guards in her tent down as they tensed from Luna's demonstration. “Yennifer's already told me you're quite extraordinary.”

“Very modest of her.” Luna replied, her face not changing.

“So, the two of you have come to aid us with Nilfgaard.” the Queen said, getting another tankard of ale for herself.

“Yes.” Geralt nodded.

“Why?”

“Nilfgaard has kidnapping my Child Surprise and I want her back, and the best way to get her back is to help you defeat the rotten bastards.” he explained, taking an tankard of ale that the Queen's attendant offered him and Luna.

“How noble for a Witcher.” Meve snorted, taking a swallow of her ale.

“Call it what you want.” Geralt told her, unphased.

“Well, I am in dire straits for help, of any kind.” the Queen informed them, reluctantly. “Mahakam won't be here for another day, at least. When they do arrive, we plan to attack the Nilfgaard camp, push them back south of the bridge and destroy it behind them, so they can't cross again.” she laid the plan for them.

Geralt mulled over the plan, sipping at his ale. It seemed like a sound enough plan, but from experience, Geralt knew that even the soundest of plans can fall apart in practice. “We'll assist you in anyway we can.” he told her, finishing off his drink.

“Glad to hear.” Queen Meve smiled, the exhaustion becoming more prominent in her eyes. “I'll have Jaka, my attendant show you and your wife to a tent.” she said, waving to the man standing behind her.

“This way.” Jaka motioned, holding the tent flap open for the pair.

– –

Luna and Geralt followed Jaka to an unoccupied tent at the far edge of camp, bowed and left back to the Queen's tent. They entered and found a sparsely furnished tent, not a surprise for a army and band of guerrillas fighting a win lose battle. There was a thin mattress on the hay covered ground and a tiny table with one candle on top. But, neither Luna or Geralt cared, they'd slept far rougher before.

Having seen their tent, the two found Roach with the rest of the horses, and unsaddled him, taking their bags back to the tent. Luna laid out their bedroll on the straw mattress and made a bed out of it the best she could. Geralt pulled off his armor, leaving on his black button down shirt, pushing its long sleeves up to his elbows, and black, leather and cloth pants. He watched over her as she made the bed, his head tilting slightly as he just took her in, her milky white hair coming undone from the long braid she kept it in, even without his sharp eyes he could see the tell-tale wisps of pale silver strands, giving her hair an almost marble look to it. Even knowing the cause of them, Geralt thought it looked gorgeous, feeling like it fit her complexion even better than when it was just that normal milky white. He followed her braid over the curve of her back as she bent over the blankets, to the lovely shape of her bottom. She still had some baby weight on her, mostly in her butt and breasts, places Geralt was more than content on having stay that way. Granted, he didn't care if she put on a lot of weight, he loved her for who she is, more than he loved how she looked; as long as she was happy, and healthy.

They hadn't touched much since their son passed, he didn't blame her, he couldn't blame her. He felt the loss of their son sorely; but Luna had grown him inside of her, for months. She knew their babe a million times better than he ever would. Blaidd had Geralt's genes, but he had been Luna's flesh and blood, sharing every essence with her. So, the Witcher gave her the space she wanted, and the comfort and contact when she wanted and needed it. It mostly resulted in fleeting kisses and little contact until they laid down in bed, when she'd wrap herself around him; her legs snaking around one of his, one arm hugging one of his arms, and the other wrapped securely around his waist, with her head on his shoulder, where for the first several nights after, was spent turned into the nook between his side and arm, as she sobbed, while he was forced to listen powerlessly. After that, she'd lay down with her back against his side, curled up and staring quietly at the wall until she fell asleep. Geralt wanted her, to the point it was painful. He wanted her to come back to him, like she was before Blaidd. She wouldn't be the same, no one could be the same after losing a child like that, but, he felt her pulling away from him and it made him feel incomplete.

He reached out and rested his hand flat on her lower back, feeling the cords of muscles beneath his palm tense at his touch. He felt her freeze like stone, still bent over and holding the blanket in her hands. His hand slid up her back, raising goosebumps in his wake as his hand pushed up her shirt, exposing her skin to the chill of the night. His hand touched her braid, carefully tugging the knot of the tie loose, her hair spilling free over her shoulders and hiding her face through its thickness. Geralt moved his hand back down to her lower back, kneading the heel of his hand into the base of her spine, his other hand curving around her hip, keeping her balanced. Luna gasped, shivering at the heat of his hand on her chilled skin. She felt her stomach quiver and weaken at his touch, she'd wanted him to touch her for a long time, but was too afraid too, every time she thought of it, usually in the dead of night, while Geralt slept. She missed his touch, so very much.

“Geralt.” She whispered, silently.

Geralt grabbed the back of her arm and pulled her up, turning her around to face him. Doubt flashed in his eyes, seeing her face; the look of a terrified rabbit staring up from its burrow at a hungry wolf. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheek bones, trying to come off as harmless as possible. Not easy for a Witcher that's only known emotionless violence all his life. Luna licked her lips, feeling that frightened rabbit in the pit of her stomach, dropping her head and eyes down between him, her forehead resting on his chest.

“Come back to me.” he whispered, brushing his fingers through her hair. “Please.” he whispered, actually meaning the word for the first time in his life.

“I don't know how, Geralt.” she whispered back, resting her hands on his hips. “And I'm afraid too. I'm afraid, if I do, it'll happen all over again.” she hiccuped, a single tear dripping down over his hand.

“We'll be careful, then.” he told her, tilting her head back up to look at him and wiping the tear, and threatening one, away. He pressed his forehead hard against hers, his hands moving to cup her neck. “I need you, Luna. I need you, like I need to breathe, because without you, I am incomplete.” he confessed, closing his eyes.

Luna moved, cupping Geralt's head in her hands and closing her eyes as they stood close together, breathing the same air and slowly starting to re-exist in the same place. Carefully, and slowly, still sensing the frightened rabbit, he tilted his head so his lips brushed hers, a gentle test, and ask of permission. Luna relaxed, for the first time in weeks, and brushed her lips back against his, before pressing them there. It had been what Geralt had patiently waited for and it made him feel alive again. He wrapped his arms around her, clasping her against his body, hands creeping down her sides, his fingers curling around the edge of her shirt, and standing back to pull it over her head. Luna pulled open the buttons to his shirt and helped him remove his own shirt. Luna pressed her hands against the impressive and lean muscle of Geralt's chest, feeling his burning skin; and instantly being warmed, despite the chill in the air, and the chill in her chest. The rest of their clothing was easily lost, and Geralt laid Luna gently down on the make shift bed, using his knee to part her legs, and kissed her. His tongue battled her for a long time, before he kissed down her lips, over her chin, following the delicate trail of her throat and biting her neck. Luna moaned, pressing her hands to his broad shoulders, tugging his silvery white hair free, and giggling as it tickled the skin of her breasts. He lapped at one dormant nipple with his tongue, his fingers pinching the other before he gave it attention with his mouth. She arched her back, pressing her breast more into his greedy mouth. He pressed his hand flat against her stomach, pushing her to lay back down as he kissed down the curve of her breast and over her stomach. He pressed his lips to her abdomen, his eyes flickering up to hers, before he moved lower. Luna gulped loudly, pressing herself down against his mouth, as the tip of his tongue teased her clitoris, with slow circular motions. Luna twitched, and panted softly as the pleasure washed over her, making her toes curl and her hands tangle into his hair, determined to keep his mouth there. Her eyes rolled back, a long moan escaping her parted lips, rolling her hips in tune with his tongue. He worked his tongue on her, sucking on her between licks, and slipping his tongue inside of her, tasting that warm, salty sweet taste that was all her. Geralt rested her legs over his shoulders and sat up in a kneeling position, lifting her lower body up, making it so she could watch him better as he sucked and licked. He felt her orgasm start to twist, slowly rising forward as her thighs squeezed his shoulders as she shivered and whimpered.

“Fuck, Geralt.” Luna panted, eyes darkening to a stormy blue, as she watched him eat her, like he hadn't eaten in all his life.

His hands gripped at her hips and thighs, trying to keep her still. He flattened his tongue against her clit, curving the tip into her and sucked, hard and quick, feeling Luna's body quake, legs tightening around him as he brought her to an annoyingly, but incredibly, slow climax. Geralt lapped at every dropped that surged out of her, and swallowed more than happily. He smiled at her as he pulled away, his hands rubbing her thighs. Geralt carefully laid Luna flat again, leaned over her and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his lips and in his mouth, it was intoxicating. Still kneeling, Geralt wrapped Luna's heavy legs around his waist and easily slipped himself into her wet core, making her call out without a care who heard. He gripped her hip, holding her firm in his lap and started to rock into her, obsessed with the wet warmth that enveloped his cock, her pulsing walls. Luna gripped Geralt's wrists holding him tight against her, making him go even deeper. His thrusts became more irregular, biting into his bottom lip as he concentrated, as if he tried hard enough he and Luna would absorb each other and become one being.

“Oh...” Luna moaned, panting and sweaty, her body heavy with exhaustion from the hard ride and the intense satisfaction of Geralt taking her. “God, Geralt, please.” she begged, tightening around him, wanting to feel him inside her like a second body part.

“Luna.” He panted back, leaning down and kissing her, madly.

Geralt came with a chest deep groan, riding it out and feeling Luna melt into a second orgasm as he filled her. He dropped to his side, slipping out of her, but pulling her against him. He held her, their breathing slowing, their bodies giving into exhaustion, sweaty and sticky, leaving a wet spot where Luna had been laying. He breathed in heavy short bursts, eyes rolling tiredly shut.

“Thank you.” he heard Luna's voice whispered against his chest, making him frown.

“For what?” he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Anchoring me back.” she told him, her eyes rolling shut and falling fast asleep.


	19. Destiny's Darkness

Luna quietly rose, pulling on her clothes and wrapping herself up in her cloak before sneaking out. She walked into the woods and looked out over the bridge a mile or so from where the camp was; she could see the twinkling lights of the Nilfgaardian camp just beyond it, and wondered how many of them would die in the ensuing battle. She turned her head hearing the sound of feet coming up behind her, she figured it was Geralt coming to see why she was up; but it wasn't.

“Can't sleep?” Yennifer asked, coming to stand beside her.

“Falling asleep has always been a simple thing to me.” Luna answered, looking back at the Nilfgaard camp. “Staying asleep, is another thing all together.”

“I can understand that.” Yennifer replied, looking at the camp with her. “I've always had an issue with sleep myself.” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Worried about the battle?”

“Somewhat.” Luna said, looking beyond the camp to the dark flowing river. “But, I'm bothered by something I can't put my finger on.” she admitted, frowning. “Like, I'm meant to be here, not to fight in the battle per say,” she tried to explain. “that being here is important to me, that something _in_ that camp is important and significant to me.”

“I suppose you'll find out soon enough.” Yennifer sighed, looking up to the stars.

“I suppose so.” Luna agreed, crossing her arms inside her cloak.

“I was rather surprised by what Geralt introduced you as...” she whispered.

Luna squeezed he eyes shut. “It was his choice to call me his wife.” she said, keeping her voice neutral. “Though, it's not exactly off the mark, by means of what Destiny says of us.” she shrugged. “He can call me what he wants.”

“I am...” Yennifer paused, trying to find the right words. “sorry about what happened with the baby.” she said, as carefully as she could. “I know you must have wanted him, a great deal.”

“I did.” Luna replied, feeling the numb hurt pass over her. “But, it is, what is it. I still have Geralt, and in the end, what more can I ask? A child is a nice bond between a man and woman. But, a child doesn't define their relationship with each other, or their feelings for each other. Or even them separately. The bond he and I share, nothing can compare to or out do it.” she reminisced, the anchored feeling settled back into its rightful place inside of her.

“You love him.” Yennifer admitted more to herself, than a statement to Luna.

“With my soul.” she answered, knowing what she meant.

“I wanted what you and Geralt have....with him.” Yennifer's voice held a pained edge. “But, we never stuck, and we grew apart.” she looked at Luna, a small hint of jealousy in her violet eyes. “But, I am glad Geralt finally got someone who loves him, thoroughly, and takes care of him.”

Luna laughed, “Christ, does he need taking care of.” she grinned. “It's a full time job of patching him up after his jobs, than it is doing anything else.” she said, thinking about all the times she had to reset a bone in his hand or stitch up a gaping wound. “But, I would trade nothing for it.”

Yennifer smiled at Luna, and Luna smiled back, both realizing they'd come to actually like each other. What jealousy the two had for each other because of their attraction to Geralt, melted away. Redefining each other, not as the woman that once had Geralt and the one that currently has him, but as two powerful and independent women, with more in common than they had allowed themselves to realize. They stood quietly in the night, watching the camp, feeling the air charge with the incoming battle that could make or break the war against the Nilfgaard Empire.

“I'm going to try and rest.” Yennifer said, suddenly. “Good night, Luna.”

“Good night, Yennifer.” she smiled, softly, still looking out over the landscape.

She felt him before he came near, wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on top of hers. She rested back against him and closed her eyes; neither aware of the moment Yennifer stood there to watch them, before going back to her own tent.

“What's bothering you?” he asked, he knew she only wandered away when something was wrong and she needed to think.

“Something is coming, Geralt.” she told him, resting her hands on his. “and it starts with the battle.”

Geralt pressed his lips together. “Well, let's worry about it when the battle starts.” he told her, turning them away from the Nilfgaardian camp. “Til then, come back to bed with me, it's too cold to be out here.” he said, leading her back to their bed.

– –

The army of Mahakam arrived that next morning, the sound of their marching woke both Luna and Geralt. Luna had started to get out of bed to look, but Geralt wrapped his arms around her, hugging her against him.

“They're not going to go anywhere, for a bit.” he told her, lips brushing her shoulder.

“Hm.” she moaned back, letting him cuddle her back to sleep for a bit longer.

– –

“Geralt!” Yennifer's voice called from outside their tent. “Luna!”

Geralt groaned, rolling onto his back, they'd only been asleep for an hour, and it felt like a minute to how the Witcher felt. Getting up, he pulled on his pants and went out the tent to see what she wanted. “What is it, Yennifer?” he asked.

She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “Still asleep, this late?”

“It's been along few days, Yen.” Geralt countered, raising his own eyebrow at her. “What is it?”

“The Queen is gathering her forces.”

“Is she organizing the attack, now?” Geralt asked, surprised.

“No, but she wants to talk to everyone.” Yennifer told him. “Her tent, in ten minutes.” she told him and walked away.

Sighing, Geralt went back inside and knelt down beside Luna, brushing her hair out of her face and stroking her face, gently. “Morning.” he smiled as her eyes fluttered open and settled on him. “We have to get up, the Queen is calling a meeting. Likely about the attack and when she's going to lead it.” he told her, picking up her pants and shirt, and handing them to her.

“Lovely.” she groaned, stretching and feeling the stiffness in her back from the long ride, and got dressed. “When do you think it'll happen?” she asked, following him out of the tent and towards the Queen's.

“Soon.” He sighed. “Tomorrow...day after....in two hours.” he could already feel the exhaustion seeping into him at the thought of another battle.

They made it to the Queen's tent as the Queen started her address in front of the large crowd. Luna stood closer to Geralt and took his hand in hers. Geralt looked down at her, squeezing her hand and trying to give her the most encouraging smile he could. Rolling her eyes at him, amused, she turned to the Queen as she started to speak.

“We all know why we're here,” she called out to the crowd. “We're here to fight Nilfgaard and stop them from going any farther up the Continent. We will be attacking at first light tomorrow. Many here will not make it back, so, if you feel you can not do this or like you are incapable of helping, or have second thoughts, you can leave now. No one will think less of you.”

The crowd stirred and heads looked around, seeing if anyone was going to leave. But, everyone stood their ground. Luna got the feeling that none of them were going to leave, having had enough of Nilfgaard's rampage or wanting to avenge what they'd taken from them.

“Excellent.” Queen Meve said, impressed that people stayed. “Prepare yourselves tonight, it may be the last you ever see.” she said, turning sharply and disappeared into her tent.

“Well, that was inspirational.” Luna commented, staring at the flap of the Queen's tent.

Geralt snorted beside her. “What did you expect her to say?” he asked. “Our world is in equilibrium. The annihilation, the killing, of any creature that inhabits this world, upsets that equilibrium. And a lack of equilibrium brings extinction closer; extinction and the end of the world as we know it.” he told her. “So, the Truth is one thing, poetry another.”

“That sounded an awful lot like poetry to me.” Luna teased him, leaning her shoulder against his. “I think you've hung out with Jaskier too long.”

“Hm.” he hummed, pressing his lips together and shaking his head. “Come on, I'm hungry and I want us to get some sword play in.” he said, turning and marching back to their tent.

Luna stood in spot, watching him walk away from her, a raw feeling, as the gnawing of him being one of the people to die on the battlefield gripped her insides. It was flashes in her mind's eye, flickering like an old black and white movie reel, Geralt being overwhelmed or out numbered, in the wrong section of the battle at the wrong time. She had to take several deep breaths to stop the dizzy tilting feeling in the base of her brain, making her vision dim.

“Luna?” Geralt's voice called out to her, having noticed she wasn't beside him, but where he'd left her; his voice throwing her a lifeline and dragging her out of the mucky waters of her mind.

Shaking her head, she moved to catch up to him. Geralt rested his hand on her cheek, caressing her lips with his thumb for a moment before they continued on into their tent, grabbed Geralt's two swords, then went to get some food before finding a quiet place to practice. His attempt at the sword play was a way to ease his mind with the distraction, for both of them, and to reassure himself that Luna was in the best possible position to protect herself in case they got separated in the battle, like they had in Sodden. He knew he didn't really need to teach her how to wield a sword, she was beyond capable of defending herself with magic; but he also knew that in the heat of battle you didn't always have the time to cast something to defend yourself.

Luna growled as Geralt disarmed her, making him grin at her. He was about to take his point when he watched a sword simmer into her hand, caught off guard by it, Luna managed to disarm him and get a hit on him. She released the magic that conjured the sword and went to pick up the one Geralt had knocked out her hand.

“Geralt,” she called, picking it up. “Can we try something?”

“Like what?” he asked, sheathing his sword.

“Your Aard.” she said, turning to look at him, curiously.

“You mean the Shock Wave Aard that I use a lot?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, biting her lip. She'd wanted to try this experiment since her new powers started coming in. “I want to see if I can influence it.”

“Influence it?” Geralt frowned.

“Yeah, I'm curious if I can make it stronger, somehow...”

“Why do you want to do that?” He asked, resting his sheath against a nearby tree.

“I'm just curious.” She told him. “It's powerful to start with, but I want to know if I can make even more so.”

“And how are we supposed to do that, Luna?”

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “I hadn't thought that far.”

Geralt shrugged the stiffness out of his shoulders, it was a crazy concept and even crazier to be tried. It could go wrong, and blow back onto them, doing seriously injury to them both. But, the Witcher admitted he was now a bit curious about it himself, her power was supposed to be linked to him, in a way. He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled. “Alright, two tries.” he told her.

Luna practically bounced with excitement. “Alright.” she said, rubbing her hands together, giddy.

“Let's try you using a spell.” he told her, shifting to stand more steady on his feet in case something went wrong.

“Alright.” She said, mulling over her brain for a spell that could do it. “Alright, I got it.” she sighed, and started whispering the spell, making the wind kick up through the trees.

Geralt could feel the power behind the spell, and before he could second guess it, threw out the first three fingers of his left arm, the Aard pulsed out and the shock hit a tree in front of him, spraying bark all over the place. Luna shook her head, the spell didn't change the magnitude of the Aard. Pulling a face as she thought it over, she moved closer to Geralt, resting her arm on his bicep and carefully flowed some of her magic into Geralt, making him gasp at the electric rush it sent tingling through his nerve endings.

“Try again.” she whispered, focusing on keeping the flow of magic, steady.

His eyes didn't leave her as he threw the sign out again, this time it came out a bit stronger, splintering the trunk of the tree with an audibly boom. Luna jerked her head up, looking at Geralt shocked, before looking at the injured tree.

“That's incredible.” she whispered, awed.

“Yeah.” Geralt nodded, he was startled by it as well.

“One more try?” She said, fidgeting with excitement.

“No.” he shook his head. “You need to conserve your magic for tomorrow.”

Luna frowned at him, like the mood killer he was, but knew by the look on his face that he was right, like always. “Fine.” she conceded, taking her sword and slipping it back into the sheath with the other.

“Luna, in case something should....”

“Don't you start talking about that shit.” Luna cut him off, it was hard enough to think and feel it, but to hear him want to voice it, crossed the thin line she was holding on too. “This isn't Sodden, Geralt. I'm better prepared, stronger, and I don't have my brother to be concerned with.”

“Those are all pluses, but I still worry.” he told her, meeting her eyes.

“I know.” she frowned. “But, we got each other.”

– –

As the queen announced, the fight started the next day, just as the sun peaked halfway up on the horizon. Geralt, Luna and Yennifer stood together, over looking the gap between the two massive bodies and great bridge in the middle of that. They agreed to try and cross the bridge or the river any way they could to get in and rescue Ciri. The trumpets sounded from both sides of the bridge, announcing the ready for the attack, and in a blur the two armies charged forward, streaming over the bride and mixing together. The Trio managed to stay together or within range of each other for a large portion of time, but as the battle grew heavier they slowly got pushed farther and farther apart. There was no time to worry about it, though, as both armies pressed in on each other. Yennifer had managed to pick her way across the bridge, crushing every enemy in her reach. Geralt stood on the bank of the river below the bridge, his back to the water and fighting three Nilfgaardians. Luna was on the opposite side of Geralt, fighting with the sword she conjured in one hand, and using her magic with the other. A barrage with more Nilfgaardians slowly made its way down river to the battlefield and anchored there, the soldiers jumping off and joining the battle. Geralt managed to dispatch the three he'd been fights, cut down two more and jump to the barrage, using it to cross the water.

“Luna!” He yelled to her over the clash of swords and bodies. “Cross the river!” he called to her as she looked back at him, crushing the throat of a Nilfgaardian that tried to sneak up on her.

Nodding, Luna picked her way back to the bridge and onto it. She turned back to take down a soldier about to strike her, when she felt something intensely familiar; it was the feeling she always felt in her nightmare. Swinging around, hand raised to protect herself, she saw a Nilfgaardian standing behind her, grinning like a blood thirsty ghoul, and her stomach launched.

“Hello, sister.” he greeted her, holding his sword out.

“I am not your sister, you fucking creep.” she growled back.

“Oh, but we are siblings, Luna.” he told her, dropping his tone slightly.

Luna's eyes grew with horror, that was the voice in her vision from Kaer Morhen. “Who are you!?” she demanded.

“I'm Colla.” He growled at her, the hatred in his eyes was like fire. “The first born son of Imik and Nudha, abandoned by them when my destiny was deemed too dark, a stain on the family name.”

The thought came back to Luna on the wind; ' _Destiny had it, my parents were supposed to have three kids_.'

“That's right.” Colla smiled, coldly, seeing Luna's eyes glaze over. “I was banished to be raised by a pitiful family in Nilfgaard. When I found out who I was, on the old crone's death bed, I vowed to kill everyone one of my blood. Starting when I reached a high rank and had our parents assassinated. But, of fucking course you two brats survived because of that rouge bastard, Oron. So, I've bide my time, waiting for the opportune moment to finish the job, and here you are.”

“Nicolas..” she whispered, frozen with shock.

“He'll be dead soon enough,” Colla told her, taking a step forward. “but, you first.”

Luna started to pull out of her shock to raise her hand again, to cast a spell on him, but hadn't noticed the Nilfgaardian behind her, until it was too late and felt the breath taking burn of steel passing through her, her hand dropped limp to her side. Everything seemed to go quiet around her as she dropped to her knees, watching the blood pour out of the gaping wound in her chest. She realized with an oddity that it didn't hurt anymore, it was just oddly warm.

“No!”

The yell cut through her dream like state, looking slowly up to see Geralt charging through the people on the bridge towards her, shoving them and slashing them down with his sword. She looked up to Colla as he turned at the sound of the Witcher's voice, raising his sword. Luna tried with everything she had left in her to stop him, but she couldn't, she just fell forward on her hands, swayed, and fell onto her side in a pool of her own blood and the blood of the other dead on the bridge with her.

Geralt reached Colla, turned, his sword arching above his head and down at him, crossing swords. He gritted his teeth at him, straining, then pushing off Colla's blade. Colla advanced on Geralt, with a frenzy of attacks, he was barely able to avoid. Dipping and turning his sword in his hands, Geralt was able to slip his blade under Colla's arm and between the ribs on his side, with a sickening crunch. He yanked his sword out of his body and turned back to where Luna was laying. He dropped his sword and turned her over, cradling her against his bloody armor, pushing her blood stained hair out of her pale face.

“Luna.” he panted, cupping her face. “Luna, hold on. You'll be alright.” he winced hearing the sick wheeze coming from her, and obvious sign her lung had been punctured, he desperately pressed a hand to the wound, blood oozing between his fingers. “You can't do this to me.” he told her, shaking her as her eyes started to roll into the back of her head, snapping her back.

“Geralt.” she choked, blood dripping from her mouth, her hand heavily touching his face, smearing blood across his cheek, before dropping to the ground.

“No, Luna!” he barked, shaking her again, watching her eyes go into the middle distance and glass over. “No!!” He cried out in anguish, hugging her against him more and rocking her.

“Geralt!” Yennifer's voice yelled from behind him, seeing him clutching Luna's lifeless body. “We have to go.”

“No, Yennifer. I can't.”

“You have too, Geralt.” she tried persuading him, trying to avoid looking at Luna. “She would want you to save Ciri, Geralt.” She told him, gripping his shoulder. “You know she would.”

He still rocked as he looked at Luna, fighting himself between staying with her and letting Nilfgaard kill him as well, or letting her go and saving Ciri. But, in the end, he knew Yennifer was right, saving Ciri was what Luna would have cared about, not him mourning over her and leaving the Princess to the mercy of Nilfgaard. So, he kissed her lips once more and carefully laid her down. His heart had laid down with Luna's body as he picked his sword back up and slowly moved away. He looked back as they made it to the end of the bridge, in time to see her body be pushed aside and fall into the Yaruga below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colla means _Lost_ in Irish


	20. The Shadow Lands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of the chapter is in homage to the upcoming world of warcraft expansion, name Shadow Lands. Being both Henry Cavill and I are WoW geeks, seems fitting.

Luna gasped as an icy cold gripped her, she looked frantically around trying to find where she was on the battlefield, but found that there wasn't a battle anymore. What had happened to the battle? Where was Geralt? Why hadn't he come to find me? She sat up and looked over the empty sides of the Yaruga bridge, feeling strangely that the place she was in, despite looking very much where the battle started, was not actually the same place anymore. She looked up at the sky and found it an odd crimson and raspberry red, and even though it was bright, there wasn't a sun she could see in the sky.

“Geralt!” She called, dredging up the river bank, looking for a better vintage point. “Geralt!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, and winced at a sharp pain in her chest. Looking down she saw the open wound in her chest and her blood soaked clothing, and felt a rush of fear. “Holy fuck....I'm _dead_.” she realized, touching the wound that no longer bled, and why would it, she thought, she was fucking dead and the dead don't bleed. “I have to get back.” she said, searching for anything that looked like it would take her back to the living, back to Geralt, and Ciri.

“Luna.”

“Holy shit!” She snapped startled by the voice, swinging around to the source. “Nicolas?” she blinked, than ran to him, holding onto to him. “Oh god, Nik. Are you dead too?”

“I think so.” he answered, holding her at half arm's length and looking her over. “What happened to you?” he asked.

“I went to help Queen Meve with Nilfgaard, at the Yaruga bridge, so Geralt, Yennefer and I could rescue Ciri.” she told him, touching the cut on Nicolas's neck, that went ear to ear.

“I told you not to go, Luna.” Nicolas sighed, shaking his head. “This is my fault, I shouldn't have told you.”

“You know, I would have seen through that lie, Nicolas.” Luna frowned back at him.

“Still, maybe at least then, you wouldn't be here with me.”

“Where the fuck are we, anyway?” Luna asked, hoping he'd know.

“The Shadow Lands.” a voice answered, causing both twins to look around, quickly.

“Mama?” Nicolas frowned, seeing the figure of their mother come into view.

“Hello, my little ones.” Nudha smiled at her precious twins, opening her arms to them.

Both wasted no time embracing their mother, with an immense sense of relief. They'd wanted to hug her, to hear her voice, feel her touch and love again for such a long time, they sadly only had to die to do it.

“I hope there's room enough for me?”

“Papa!” Luna grinned, letting go of her mother to launch herself into his arms, she'd never stopped being a daddy's girl.

“Oh ho!” Imik laughed, catching her. “You've grown a great deal since the last time you did that, my little Bean.” he smiled, cupping her face in his hands. “Let me look at you.” he said, looking her over. “You are all the more beautiful a woman as I dreamed you would be.” he told her, kissing her forehead like he did when she was younger, it made Luna feel small again, but safe, like she always felt when her father was with her.

“And you, my son.” Imik said, looking over Luna's head to Nicolas. “You've become quite the man.”

Nicolas became instantly ashamed at his father's compliment. “I have not been, Father. I have done wrong, and I haven't watched over Luna like you told me too. I joined the forces of Nilfgaard and became embittered over you and Mama's deaths. I drew my sword on her and tried to influence her into the same darkness I slipped into.” he said, dropping his eyes from his parents. “But, she smartly did not join my madness. I only realized how wrong and foolish I was until it was too late.”

“Oh, my Son.” Imik sighed, moving to embrace him. “We all make mistakes,” he whispered in his ear. “Everyone has done something, little or big, that was foolish. What matters is, in the end, if you are given forgiveness, not only from the foolish act, but from yourself as well.”

“And I forgave you long before that day, Nikki.” Luna told him, smiling softly at him.

“As long as you forgive me then, sister. I can forgive myself.” Nicolas smiled back.

“Why didn't you tell us about Colla?” Luna asked, looking between her parents.

Imik and Nudha glanced at each other, then at the ground for a moment.

“It was just easier not too.” Nudha answered, looking up at them.

“Who's Colla?” Nicolas asked, confused.

“Colla is your older brother.” Imik told him, resigned. “The two of you were born a year after he was. The sage that told us your destinies, when you were born, had also told us his, when he was born. He told us that Colla has a dark Destiny to do horrible things, and that we should rid the world of him.”

“But, we couldn't.” Nudha continued. “He was our son, our first born.” she reasoned. “So, instead we found a couple in Nilfgaard that would adopt him. We thought if we got him as far away as we could, that it would protect him from meeting his Destiny, or at least not harm the two of you.”

“Did Marcus know?”

“Of course.” Imik nodded. “He was the one that found the couple for us.”

“Is Marcus here?” Nicolas asked, looking around.

“No.” Imik shook his head. “He made his peace when he died and has moved on.”

“You know he allowed me to fulfill my Destiny?” Luna asked.

Her parents sighed, and nodded. “We do know, Luna.”

“Which reminds me, there's someone that wishes to meet you.” Her mother said, going away for a moment and came back carrying a baby in her arms.

Luna didn't need to be told who it was, her soul would have known Blaidd even if it was dark. She reached out and took him from her mother, cradling him in her arms as tears welled up in her eyes. “My boy.” she said in a shaky voice. “My sweet sweet boy.” she hugged him to her chest and cried.

“We are sorry, Luna.” her mother said, watching her cradle Blaidd. “We thought keeping you from the Witcher would be the best for you. We were afraid that such a life would be too much for you, we continued to feel so here, in death, until Blaidd came to us, and we realized just how much you and Geralt loved each other, and needed one another. Especially in the control you needed to maintain your powers.”

“I'm just glad we were wrong about that, and not wrong like we had been with Colla.” her father said, watching his baby hold onto hers. “He is an incredible little boy, and he'll grow here as loved as both of you are.”

“How could he not.” Luna replied smiling at her son, a profound feeling of contentment washing over her. “He's his father's son.” she said, looking into Blaidd's eyes, they were blue like hers, but specked with bits of gold, like Geralt's. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in life, or death, and she never wanted to let him go again.

“So, what is this place?” Nicolas asked.

“This place is called The Shadow Lands.” Imik answered, looking up at the sky. “It's the place between life and the final resting place.” he explained. “Souls stay here until they've fulfilled their unfinished business.”

“How do we do that?” Luna asked, glancing up from Blaidd.

“It depends on the person.” her Mother replied. “It's different for everyone.”

“Why are you two still here?” Nicolas frowned.

“We haven't finished our business.” their Father answered, shrugging. “Our unfinished business was to ensure the pair of you were happy and content in life.”

“So much for that.” Luna snorted. “We're dead now.”

“Yes. But, that doesn't mean our business is not complete.” Nudha told her, lifting an eyebrow at Luna. “Luna, you died trying to rescue a young girl that's lost everything, like you had. Along side the love of your existence.” she explained. “Nicolas, you died for protecting your sister and helping her find that little girl. You both have shown, despite foolishness and set backs, that you've grown into strong, independent, just, loyal and well rounded adults. Everything your father and I would have wanted, and hoped for. So, that completes our unfinished business here in the Shadow Lands.”

“Now, what?” Luna and Nicolas asked at the same time.

“We pass on.” Imik said, turning and walking towards the bridge.

Nicolas and Luna looked at each other and followed their parents to the bridge, where a man stood. Their parents went first and after a couple of words, he let them through. Nicolas stayed with Luna for a moment before turning to her.

“This belongs to you now, Luna.” he told her, resting his hands on her shoulders and letting out a deep breath.

Luna gasped feeling a strong surge crash over her, leaving her breathless. She looked at her Brother realizing that he'd given all the magic power he had to her. “Nicolas...”

“I don't need it anymore, Luna.” Nicolas told her, hugging her, tight. “But, you will.” he whispered into her ear.

Having given Luna his powers, Nicolas went up to the man on the bridge, and the same thing, they had a few words and he let Nicolas pass. Taking a deep breath, Luna stepped up to him.

“Name?” he asked, his voice utterly toneless.

“Luna of Rivia.” she told him, without thinking about it.

“And the baby?” he asked, nodding his head at Blaidd.

“Blaidd of Rivia.” she answered, balancing Blaidd on her hip.

“The baby can pass.” he told her. “You may not.”

“What?” Luna frowned.

“Your business in life has not been completed. Therefore, you can not pass.” He explained to her.

“I'm not leaving without him.” Luna said, holding Blaidd closer to her body.

“Luna.” Her mother called stepping forward. “Blaidd is a baby, he wasn't alive long enough to have any business to finish, hence why he can pass.”

“But, I don't know what my unfinished business is!” Luna snapped, emotional. “And I don't want to leave him, not again, Mama.”

Nudha smiled at her daughter, reaching her arms out for her grandson. “You'll see him again, Luna. Until then, your father, Nicolas and I will take care of him.” she promised. “Your unfinished business is Geralt of Rivia. Like your Destinies, your lives are linked and intertwined, there is no one of you, without the other. There never has been or will be. You need to go back to him.” she told Luna, carefully taking Blaidd from her. “We love you, Luna.” she whispered, turning back to Nicolas and Imik.

“What am I supposed to do without you?” she called, to mostly Nicolas.

“What you've always done, Sis!” he called back, crossing the bridge towards the other side. “You never needed me! And you know it!” he said, and then all four of them faded out of sight, to the other side.

Luna looked at the man, and cocked an angry eyebrow at him. “Alright, genius.” she snapped, addressing him. “How do I get back to Geralt?”

The man did a sharp half turn and walked down the river to a dock, then stood there like a sentry. Luna walked up to him, looking at him like he was a total moron, but he looked at her like she wasn't even there. After a moment, he nodded his head over to the end of the dock.

“Jump.” was the only word that came out of his mouth before he turned again and went back to sentry duty by the bridge.

“Stupid helpful.” she rolled her eyes at him, walking to the end of the dock. “Brain dead more like it.” she said, making herself laugh.

She stood at the end of the dock and looked into the dark waters, seeing her own bloody reflection in it, then looked back at the bridge, a split second of a thought of, if she took a running start, would he be able to catch her before she could cross the bridge and join her family. But, the thought was chased away by the thought of never seeing Geralt again, or at least not for a very long time, being the bastard was a Witcher and lived as long as he survived. Knowing him, he'd probably end up getting his dumb ass killed to follow her here. It was that latter thought pulled her further away from wanting to stay in the Shadow Lands and crossing over. Geralt dying, needlessly and purposely, to be with her. There was still a world of things he needed to do, and she couldn't let him throw that all way, just for her.

“In the words of Geralt of Rivia.” she said to the sky. “Fuck!” Taking several steps back, Luna took a running leap into the water, and everything went black again.


	21. Linked By Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to be a party pooper, but I think A Witcher’s Destiny only has a few chapters left until it’s finished. I don’t wanna start making it feel like it’s forced or something. But we’ll see what the Muse has in store.

Geralt and Yennifer had managed to cross the bridge and fight their way into the Nilfgaard camp. They searched the camp, but couldn't find Ciri. Hiding beside a tent, they waited until a solider ran by, where Geralt grabbed him by the nape of the neck and pulled him to where they stood. He punched him in the gut to get the point across that he was beyond the mood for small talk and bullshit antics. Geralt had left his heart, soul, will to give a fuck and gentleness on the bridge where Luna died. He had a very little sliver of care left in his body, and that was inflamed by getting Ciri safely back into his hands. After that, there was no telling what the disimpassioned Witcher would do, he was running on fumes, as it was.

“A young girl.” He started, belting the poor solider in the stomach again. “A princess, is being held captive here. Where is she?” he asked, none too gently. “And I'm warning you, if you lie to me, I will cut your stomach open and strangle you with your own intestines.”

“I-I don't know.” the frightened solider stammered, looking between Geralt and Yennifer. “Wait, wait...wait!” he begged, putting his hands up as Geralt pressed the tip of his sword against his stomach. “Perhaps in....the command tent...”

“Where is that?” Yennifer asked, resting her hand on Geralt's forearm, trying to steady him.

“It's the gray one, with the Nilfgaard Sun on it in, the east edge of camp.” he told them.

“Thank you.” Yennifer said, sarcastically, turning toward the east.

Geralt looked the man over, then punched him square in the face. The solider fell to the ground like a dropped boulder. He and Yennifer exchanged looks, but Geralt walked by her, heading for the gray tent in the distance with the determination of a pack of hungry and avenging wolves. Reaching the tent, Geralt listened for anything inside, before stepping inside the tent.

“Geralt!” Ciri called, standing up, her hands tied around the main support pole of the tent. “Yennefer!” she smiled, as Geralt cut her bonds. She looked at the tent flap waiting for Luna to come in next. “Where's Luna?” she asked, when she didn't.

“Hmm.” Geralt growled, not meeting Ciri's eyes.

“Where is she, Geralt?” Ciri pressed, getting a sinking feeling in her chest and stomach.

“She didn't make it across the bridge.” Yennefer told the Princess as delicately as possibly, trying to save her, and Geralt, anymore pain.

“So, we'll see her when we get back over...” Ciri said, trailing off seeing Geralt's face and the pained expression in Yennefer's eyes.

“She's dead.” Geralt blurted it out, like a punch in the gut.

“What?” Ciri whispered. “How?”

“There's a battle going on, and she crossed the bridge to get here to help rescue you, and was attacked from behind.” Geralt reluctantly explained to her.

“She died, because of me....”

Geralt snapped out of his clouded grief and looked Ciri in the eyes, even more pain soaked into him. He hugged Ciri against him, resting his chin on the top of her ashen blonde head. “It's not your fault, Ciri. I promise you that.” he told her. “She would have done anything to see you safe, at any cost.”

“I'm sorry, Geralt.” Ciri sniffled, hugging herself against him.

“What are you doing in here?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Yennefer snapped, stepping back.

“Cahir, Nilfgaard Commander.” the man barked, “and she isn't going anywhere.” he pointed at Ciri as Geralt stepped in front of her.

“I'm afraid she is coming with me.” Geralt told him, leveling his sword at Cahir.

Cahir drew his sword, slowly stepping forward. Geralt carefully pushed Ciri in Yennefer's direction and advanced on Cahir, striking out towards him. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to let all his anger out on something, and the Nilfgaardian Commander was more than plenty to do it too. The pair crossed swords, knocking over the furniture in the process. Yennefer hid Ciri behind her, pushing them both back into a corner away from the fighting men. Geralt growled as Cahir's blade sliced into his upper arm and nicked the top of his thigh. Enraged, Geralt doubled his attacks, backing him into a corner.

“You don't know what she is!” he tried to argue.

“I know exactly what she is.” Geralt barked, driving his sword through his stomach. “She's mine.” he twisted his blade before yanking it out and slitting Cahir's throat. He wiped his bloody blade on the commander's corpse and turned to Yennefer and Ciri. “Let's go.”

Without another word, he left the tent, Ciri between him and Yennefer as they traced themselves back to the bridge and the side of Queen Meve's army. The battle seemed to be going in the Queen and her men's favor. They were almost across the bridge, Geralt looked straight ahead, beyond the bridge and way from the water. A huge surge of power rocked the bridge, causing them to look back and see what caused it.

“Fringilla.” Yennefer sneered, seeing her rival mage. “Cross the bridge with Ciri, Geralt.” she said, turning to face the Nilfgaardian Mage.

“Yenn...” Geralt started to protest, he couldn't lose another person that was important to him.

“Just go, Geralt!” She barked, deflecting a spell from Fringilla.

Growling again, Geralt took Ciri and finished crossing the bridge. He took Ciri beyond the battle's lines, back to the camp and to the tent he and Luna had shared. “Stay here. Don't move until I come back for you, understood?” he told her, holding her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes.

“I understand.” Ciri nodded. “Where are you going?”

“To help Yennefer.” he said, turning and ran back to the battlefield.

– –

Luna gasped for air and only got a lungful of water. Realizing she was in the water, panic started to set in, and her mind instantly reverting to the fear she had as a child from her parents' dying. She struggled for several moments before the rational section of her brain kicked in, kicking her feet and buoying her head up to the surface and used her arms to swim to the edge of the shore, cough up water, and blood that was still trapped inside her lungs. She laid down on the shore, panting and wheezing, staring up at the now normal stormy gray sky. After the pain in her throat and lungs dulled down to a manageable level, she picked up her hand and touched her chest where the stab wound was. The wound was still there with a bit of blood oozing out of it, but it no longer seemed fatal. Rolling over on her hands and knees Luna carefully stood up and looked around. She could hear the battle again, that was a good sign, she hadn't missed it, and she hadn't been carried to far away by the flow of the river. It still hurt to breathe, most likely the wound to her lung was still there in some complicity and her chest hurt with every beat, making her realize, alarmingly, that the blade must have nicked apart of her heart, causing her actual death. But, even with the wounds still there, somehow she was alive.

“Not the craziest thing to have happen to me, lately.” she quipped to herself, climbing up the river bank.

She could see the battle raging in the distance, and felt a mild comfort come over her. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she portalled herself as close as she could get, and ran the rest of the way. Making it there, the wheeze annoyingly loud and coughing up a bit more blood, she scanned the battlefield for any sign of Geralt and Yennefer. The sudden vibration in the air told her magic was near, she saw the flash of it on the bridge, and dragged herself there.

“Geralt.” she whispered, smiling with immense joy at the sight of him fighting. She looked beyond Geralt and saw Yennefer begin to struggle with a mage on the other side of the bridge, and ran towards them to help. “Geralt!” she yelled, as she got closer to him.

Geralt looked up at the sound of his name, his glowing amber-gold eyes widening seeing Luna running full tilt at him. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to clear it, but when he opened them again, she was still there.

“ _Aard_ the bridge, Geralt.” she yelled, colliding with him. “Now!” she told him, kissing him, and with all she had, opening herself to allow all her power to flow into him as they locked lips.

Not questioning it, Geralt shot out his Aard and it exploded out of his three fingers like a sonic boom, striking the bridge just in front of Yennefer and making it explode. Huge chucks of stone, water and earth raising into the air, slowed in motion as Luna and Geralt kissed deeply, then spewed in all directions as they broke the kiss, foreheads pressed together and looking into each others eyes, shock, surprise, happiness, reprieve and magic still flowing between them. The debris falling from the sky hitting everything, but them. With the bridge destroyed and no way to cross it, the remaining Nilfgaardians on their side were dispatched, and the Nilfgaardians on the other side retreated.

“How?” Geralt panted, holding Luna out on arm's length and looking her over, he could still see the wound, blood lightly flowing from it. He cupped her face in his dirt and blood covered hands. “How? I watched you die? I held you....”

Luna cut him off, kissing him again. “I'll explain later.” she whispered against his lips. “Where's Ciri?” she asked.

“She's back at Queen Meve's camp.” he told her. “She's safe.”

“Oh, thank the Gods.” Luna sighed, the tension leaving her body and making her shaky.

“Luna?” Yennefer whispered, coming up to her and Geralt. “You're....”

“Supposed to be dead.” Luna smiled at her. “I was.” she added.

“How did you come back?” Yennefer asked, looking her over.

“I'll explain later.” Luna assured her, nodding her head. “Let's go to Ciri.” she said, looking up at Geralt.

Geralt nodded, not really listening to what she said, he was still caught up in the fact she was alive. With the battle won, the retrieving of the dead and wounded began. Luna, Yennefer and Geralt picked their way back to the camp and to their tent, where Ciri impatiently waited for Geralt to come back. When Luna entered the tent first, Ciri stood surprised first before clinging onto her with all her might. Luna smiled, touched as she held her back, resting her cheek atop her head.

“You're alive.” Ciri said, looking up at her, and not letting her go. “They said, you were dead.”

“We thought she was.” Geralt said, entering the tent with Yennefer. “What happened, Luna?” he asked, looking at her. “Is this some sort of trick?”

“No, Geralt.” Luna shook her head. “It's not. It's me, really me. There's no tricks or deception.”

“Then, how are you alive?” Yennefer demanded. “Geralt held you as you drew your last breath on that bridge, we both saw you go, and we saw you fall into the water.”

“I did die on that bridge.” Luna told them, resting her hand on Ciri's head, tenderly, before detaching herself from the Princess. “You were the last thing I recall, Geralt.” she confessed, resting her hand on his chest, feeling his slow heart start to beat faster. “The man that killed me,” Luna started to explain. “Not the one that stabbed me, the one you killed, Geralt.” she clarified. “The Nilfgaardian commander on the bridge with me, was my brother.”

“Your what?” Yennefer exclaimed, taken off guard.

“I told you,” Luna said, only addressing Geralt. “When you came after me, when Marcus took me home and you came after the Kikimora attack; you were taking me back upstairs to bed, do you remember what I told you...” she asked.

“Yes, vaguely.” he nodded, eyes intent on her.

“I told you that; ' _Destiny said, my parents were supposed to have three children_ '.” she quoted herself.

“But, your mother couldn't have any more after you and Nicolas were born.” he nodded, remembering precisely now.

“That's right.” Luna nodded. “But, the man, his name was Colla, he was my parent's first born son.” she confessed. “The same Sage that gave me my Destiny, told my parents that Colla's would be a black stain on the family, and they should do away from him...”

“Then, how was he on that bridge?” Yennefer asked, confused.

“My parents couldn't kill him.” she answered, glancing at her. “He was their first born, their son.” she whispered, looking up at Geralt; they both understood her parents' reasoning. “So, Marcus found them a couple from Nilfgaard to adopt and raise him. When his adoptive mother told him who he really was, and where he came from in Talgar, he became embittered against us.” she frowned, looking down at the prospect. “He gained favor with the higher ups in Nilfgaard's ranks and convinced them to have my parents, as well as Nik and I, killed. But, Oron....”

“The Nilfgaardian bastard that turned Nicolas and tried to capture and kill you?” Geralt asked, his jaw clenched with anger.

“Yes.” Luna nodded. “Seems he was a Nilfgaardian Rogue. He had actually intercepted the letters to the assassins with orders to kill my family, and really did come and try to save us, but only managed to save Nik and I. He wasn't lying when he told Nicolas, and later us, that my parents were murdered.”

“Did Nicolas know that Colla existed?” Yennefer asked her.

“No.” Luna shook her head. “At least, not until he was killed.”

“He's dead?” Geralt asked, taken aback.

“Yes.” Luna replied, quietly, the thought of Nicolas's death hurt more than the actual wound in her chest. “I think that's how Colla knew I'd be here. He'd gotten the information from Nicolas before they killed him.”

“So, if you _did_ die, how did you come back?” Ciri asked, looking up at Luna.

Luna took a breath and opened her mouth, but paused as it struck her, she really didn't know how she'd gotten back. “I went to the Shadow Lands. It's a place the dead go after they die, but before they can officially cross over. I saw Nicolas there, which is how I knew he's dead.” she thought about what she'd went through between life and death. “I saw my parents.” she whispered, then looked Geralt in the eyes. “I saw Blaidd,” a happy warmth spread through her at the thought of their son, smiling. “he's so beautiful, Geralt. He's perfect, not like when he was born. His eyes are blue like mine, but has flecks of gold like yours.” she explained, recalling his face and the feeling of his little body against her. “He is his father's son, no doubt.”

He smiled back at her, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I got to see all four of them one last time, before we went to cross over.” she continued to explain, kissing the palm of Geralt's hand. “My parents went, but before Nicolas went he gave me his magic..” she opened her hand and a strong purple glow emanated from it, as she rolled her fingers shut it faded away. “Then, he crossed over. When I went to go with Blaidd, the keeper allowed Blaidd to cross, but wouldn't allow me too. Since he was too young to have any unfinished business in life, he was free to go. I wasn't able to cross, though the gods knew I wanted to so badly. So, I could be with my parents and Nicolas, but really, I wanted to stay with Blaidd.”

“You couldn't cross over because your business here in life isn't finished?” Ciri asked, trying to understand.

“No, it's not.” she nodded, smiling at her. “I ended up grappling with my consciousness the way one grapples with a lost bar of soap in the bath.” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“What's your unfinished business, then?” Yennefer asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Luna pressed Geralt's hand to her cheek, and gripped his wrist, looking him deeply into the eyes. “Geralt is.” she whispered.

“Me?” Geralt frowned, not understanding.

“We still have things to do together in life, Geralt.” she told him. “There is no me, without you,...”

“And there is no me, without you, Luna.” he smiled, touched.

“Our Destiny and Fates, our lives are intertwined.” Luna replied, contently. “Not even death can part us. So, I came back, for you, Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt pulled Luna tightly against him, and she melted into him, not even the pain of her wounds would prevent her from clinging onto him, the rhythmic sound of his heart in her ears. Looking at Luna and Geralt, and overcome, Ciri joined their hug, holding on to them for dear life; and they hugged her back. Yennefer stood awkwardly at the door of the tent looking as the three of them embraced.

“Perhaps the two of you are parents, after all.” she commented.

Luna, Geralt and Ciri looked at each other and realized, perhaps she was right.

“People linked by Destiny always find each other.” Geralt smiled at Luna and Ciri, then at Yennefer. “You are part of this family as well, Yennefer.” he told her, smiling a little bit more.

Luna held out an arm to her, “I'm in agreement with Geralt.” she said, smiling at her.

Smiling back, Yennefer stepped into the fold of the hug, all four of them clinging onto each other. If they couldn't trust the rest of the world, they all knew they could trust each other, no matter what came their way.


	22. Epilogue: All Fulfilled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of A Witcher's Destiny. But, I'm considering a Sequel of some kind. So, keep an eye out, just in case, and thank you so much for the love and support during my writing of this story, I'm forever grateful.

“Sir Geralt, officially of Rivia.” Luna grinned, slipping out of her robes and carefully waded into the large bath, and sat beside Geralt.

“Dame Luna of Rivia.” Geralt smiled back, kissing her as she sat beside him.

After the battle, Queen Meve had invited Luna, Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer to stay in her castle as guests, and had been appointed by her; knighting Geralt for his help in the battle and done similar to Luna. She'd given Yennefer the option as well, but she'd opted out of it. Luna and Geralt took full advantage of the Queen's hospitality, like they did now, using the Queen's bath house that was created by a natural hot spring. Very beneficial a week after a large battle...and dying. Geralt had tended to Luna's wounds, as she tended to his.

“You've started to heal faster than me.” Geralt commented, tracing the scar between her shoulderblades where the Nilfgaardian stabbed her. His fingers moved to the scar under her left breast, intrigued how quickly she'd healed, she hadn't healed like this before she'd gone to the Shadow Lands, and he wondered if it had something to do with that, and Nicolas passing his magic onto her.

“Hmm.” Luna hummed, resting back against him. “Jealous?” she teased, closing her eyes.

“Not in the slightest.” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“This water feels incredible.” she commented.

“Very.” Geralt agreed, relaxing and enjoying the hot water ease away all the aches, pains and stresses he had. “I have something to ask you.” he murmured after a while, the pit of his stomach quivering a tiny bit.

“Oh, god.” Luna groaned, dramatically, making him laugh.

“Marry me.” he whispered into her ear.

Luna sat up and turned to him, a look of astonishment, as a huge smile crossed her face. “What?” she asked, not believing her ears.

“Marry me.” Geralt repeated, smiling at her. “I already consider you my Wife, and you consider me your Husband.” he felt his stomach twitch again, afraid she'd say no.

“I-” she chuckled, unable to process his request. It was true she'd considered Geralt her Husband, Destiny ensured that, but to make it legal was something entirely. “Are you serious?” she asked, seeing his face, his expression between playful, serious and utterly concerned by her answer.

“Yes, I am.” he nodded, stroking her side under the water.

“Can we even....” she asked, frowning, she didn't even know if it was legal to marry a Witcher.

“I wouldn't see why not.” Geralt told her, his fingers gliding down her thigh. “I'm sure the Queen would, if we asked her.”

Luna smiled at him, a thrill running through her. “Yes, Geralt.” she nodded, resolute in the thought of being his wife in every way and form. “I will marry you.”

Geralt grinned, moving her to straddle his lap and kissed her deeply. Luna wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her thighs against his sides, making him moan. Geralt wrapped an arm tight around her, pressing her impossibly close to him, making it hard to breathe, but she didn't care. She moaned feeling Geralt's tongue slip between her lips and taste her mouth. Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he slipped his fingers into her from behind, making her gasp as his eased two fingers in and out of her, his thumb rubbing her clit as he did. Luna broke their kiss and slowly rocked her hips against his fingers, moaning again as he hooked his fingers inside of her and stroked her sweet spot.

“Ger...”

“Shh..” He shushed her, increasing pressure on her clit, loving the feel of her getting wetter around his fingers. “I want to see your face.” he told her, his voice husky with arousal. “So, come for me, Luna.” he coaxed her. “Let me see that beautiful face as you come.” he encouraged her, working his fingers against her sweet spot more vigorously. “Show it to me.”

Luna twitched against him, gripping his shoulders to steady herself as her knees grew weak. She shook with as her arousal intensifying, her knees squeezed his sides harder and her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, biting into her lip to stifle a moan, but Geralt used his free hand to rescue her bottom lip from her teeth and cupped the side of her face as her head dropped back.

“None of that, my Wife.” Geralt teased, pressing his lips to her chest. “I want hear you cry out, I care not, if the whole castle, or Lyria and Rivia, hear you.” He told her, driving his thick fingers deeper, making her yell out, voice echoing off the stone walls. “Let all of the Continent hear you!” He thrust his fingers harder and faster, feeling her quake against him, whimpering and crying out with everything movement of his fingers.

She panted, erratically and her movement became spasmodic, the rolling of her hips became more irregular and desperate. “Fuck...Geralt--” She twitched and tightened around his fingers, she wanted to bite into her lips as she climaxed, but fought the urge, making her cry reverberate off the walls, her face fixed on Geralt's, seeing his eyes glow with lust, the feel of her coming around his still working fingers made his own prick twitch. Luna went limp against him, her sweaty forehead falling against his shoulder, spent.

“I love you.” Geralt panted, turning his face into her wet hair, tugging playfully on her earlobe. “You're so fucking gorgeous.”

Luna laughed against his warm, damp shoulder as her eyes rolled shut. Her hand slipped between them, wrapping her hand around the base of his thick cock, feeling the blood pulse through it. Luna slowly gliding her hand up and down his long shaft, swirling the pad of her thumb around the head and slit of it. Geralt pressed his face into her neck, a growl rumbling in his chest and throat, biting into her shoulder, making Luna moan as his teeth sank into her skin. Luna pushed his head away from her shoulder, sitting up some, her hand pressed to his clavicle to hold him in place.

“If the world has to hear me come, Husband,” she panted, fiercely, squeezing his tip. “Then, they'll hear you, as well.”

Geralt's head dropped back, rocking his hips as much into her hand as he could with her still in his lap. She increased her grip on him and quickened her pace a bit, he gripped at her hips, carelessly gripping hard and leaving bruises behind. Geralt came, his body tensing and panting shallow and quick, he pulled Luna against him and kissed her, both of them battling with their tongues and locking lips until neither could breathe and had to break apart. Recovered, Luna picked up the sponge and soap, making Geralt turn from her, so she could wash his back, then moved on to the rest of his body, and smiled when he allowed her to wash his hair. When Geralt was squeaky clean, he returned the favor to Luna, making her moan, contently, as his strong and skilled fingers massaged her scalp.

“You do know, we need to send word to Jaskier about the wedding.” Luna told him, slipping on a simple cotton sheath dress and her robes. “He was horribly offended we didn't invite him to the _first_ one.” she teased, remembering the Bard's face in the tavern, so long ago.

“Hmm.” Geralt grunted, pulling on his signature black pants and long sleeve shirt. “He'll want to sing that fucking song.”

“You mean,” she ginned, impishly. “Toss a Coin to Your Witcher, oh valley of plenty, oh valley of plenty, oh oh!” she sang, her voice echoing.

Geralt stood in front of her for a moment, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I'd prefer you sing it.” he admitted.

“Oh, I am so telling him that!” Luna laughed, her grin growing.

“You tell him that, and I'll have you over my knee.” Geralt threatened, playfully. “Let's, at least, ensure the Queen will fulfill our request first.”

– –

Queen Meve was more than helpful in fulfilling Geralt and Luna's wish to wed. They chose to wait a week to ensure those they wanted to come to the simple ceremony could make it to Rivia; namely Jaskier, and Yennefer, who had returned to Aretuza. Ciri was more than excited for the two of them to marry, she'd grown to regard both Luna and Geralt as adoptive parents, and loved them almost as much as she loved Calanthe. Luna had even begun teaching the Princess how to control certain aspects of her powers, that Aretuza could not, and a few spells she'd learned naturally. It filled Luna was a sense of peace and complacence, she'd never experienced before. She had a family, not that Marcus and Nicolas weren't family, but the bond and relationship between her and Geralt, her and Ciri, and the one between the three of them together, was fulfilling. She'd lost Blaidd, but gained Ciri as a daughter. She'd lost Nicolas, but gained Yennefer as a sister.

It seemed Destiny had given them all order and balance, after all.

“Can I braid your hair?” Ciri asked, as Luna sat and brushed her hair.

Luna smiled at her through the mirror and held the brush over her shoulder, for her to take. Smiling, excitedly, Ciri took the brush from her and finished brushing her hair, before she started to braid it. She braided a long braid at the side of Luna's head, and let it rest over her shoulder, where it almost reached Luna's navel. Then, started to braid the rest of her hair, leaving some of her loose down her back and weaved the rest of it, like a dutch braid. Luna twisted the long single side braid around her finger.

“Why did you do this one?” She asked, looking back at her.

“In Cintra, it's meant to signify being wed.” Ciri explained, smiling at her. “I thought since it was your wedding day, it was only appropriate.”

Luna smiled, lovingly at her. “I think you're right, Cirilla.” she agreed, her stomach weak at the thought of her and Geralt getting married in a few short hours.

There was a knock on the door, startling both you and Ciri. You glanced at Ciri and got up, rushing out of view in case it was Geralt trying to get a peek of her before it was time. Ciri rushed to the door and cracked it up, but quickly swung it open and squealed with delight, making Luna peek out from her hiding place.

“Yen!” She was as delighted as Ciri was to see her, rushing over and embracing her. “I'm so glad you came!” she told her, letting her into the room. “How was your trip?”

“Would have been much easier, if Jaskier didn't insist on trying out several _new_ ballads on me, he's trying to compose one for you and Geralt. Either wants to play it while you go down the aisle or, at some point after, or both, knowing the Bard.” Yennefer laughed, rolling her eyes.

“That's Jaskier, thrifty as always.” you laughed back, at the image.

“Gods, I love your hair.” She complimented you, touching the side braid.

“Thank you! Ciri did it for me.” Luna smiled at the Princess, who blushed softly.

“Are you ready to be married?” Yennefer asked, walking up to the dress the Queen had made for Luna.

It was silk and the best high thread count cotton, with silver thread and gold beaded bees adorning the bottom edge and up almost to the waist line. It was a soft gray, allowing Luna's white hair to stand out and not get lost, like it would have with a simply white wedding dress. The top of the dress was made to hug her slender waist and support the swell of her breasts, the straps were silk as well. Luna was worried about wearing it, it seems too beautiful too. There was yet another knock on the door and Luna stepped out of view as Ciri opened it again, and rolled her eyes hearing Jaskier's voice asking for her, cause; ' _I need to know if she likes slow songs or fast ones...or perhaps both, cover both my sides_...'

“Jaskier, she won't care about the pace of the song.” she heard Yennefer's annoyed voice. “Get lost, Bard, before I break your lute, and you can't play anything at the wedding.”

Luna laughed, hearing his voice get muffled as the door was closed on him. “Pesky, as always.” she laughed, coming back out. “I should get dressed, the wedding is soon.”

– –

Geralt paced in the room he'd been given to get ready for the wedding, he'd rather just be in the same room with Luna, what was the point of such ceremony, they were going to see each other in an hour, and he'd nothing to do, he'd already put on the nice clothing the Queen had made for him as well. He didn't like them, they felt too tight, and he hated looking like...another sad silk trader. His room door opened and Jaskier entered, beaming like the afternoon sun, clutching his lute.

“Jaskier.” Geralt grunted in welcome, pulling at his coat once more. “Glad to see you've made it.”

“Oh, I wouldn't miss this for all the coins in the world.” Jaskier told him, proudly. “Even the Countess de Stael couldn't stop me from coming, not that she could, since she's left me...again.” his mood dampened for a moment, but he perked back up. “Oh, I have something for you.” he partially vibrated with excitement, as he held his lute and gave it a strum.

“Hm.” Geralt grunted again, rolling his eyes at Jaskier as he started to sing the song he'd written for them. “It's nice, Jaskier. I'm sure Luna will love it.” he told the Bard, admittedly to shut him up, but he still liked it.

“I was thinking of singing it, as Luna came down the aisle to you.” Jaskier told him, glowing from Geralt's comment. “What is that you're looking at?” he asked, seeing Geralt pull something out of his pocket.

“Nothing.” Geralt replied, slipping it back into his pocket, and glancing out the window. “It's time.” he said, striding to the door, but paused, and looked at Jaskier. “Hm.” he hummed, pressing his lips together. “Jaskier, I need to ask something of you.”

“Anything, Geralt.” Jaskier replied, seeing the seriousness in Geralt's golden brown eyes.

“I-” he sighed, relaxing his shoulders. “I want you..to be my best man.” he sighed again, relieved he was able to get it out.

Jaskier's entire body and soul felt like he was floating, and the face splitting smile only grew larger, at the Witcher's words. “You want _me_ to be your best man? Is that cause I'm your friend?” he finally got to bring Geralt's words to him at the tavern up.

“Yo-” Geralt found him automatically saying Jaskier wasn't his friend, he'd only said the phrase a million times over the decade he and the Bard traveled together, and let out a hard sigh. “You _are_ my friend, Jaskier.” he admitted, looking him in the eyes. “And, I wouldn't want anyone else to be my best man, other than the man that's always been by my side, in all other things, dangerous things. So, why not my wedding as well.”

“Oh, Geralt..” Jaskier danced in place, throwing out his arms to hug Geralt.

“Not a chance, Bard.” Geralt warned him, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Ah, it was worth a shot.” Jaskier relented. “We did have a good little moment there.”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt yanked the door open and strode down the hallway to the throne room where they were to have the wedding. It was only going to be Luna, Geralt, Ciri, Jaskier, Yennefer and the Queen, who was officiating it. They wanted no one else there for it, they had everyone they wanted and needed. Yennefer was already in her place, as Luna's Maid of Honor with, Ciri, the queen was there as well, when Geralt and Jaskier arrived, they acknowledged each other and Geralt stood in his spot, eyes glued to the door for Luna, accompanied by Ciri, would come through. Even with all the things he'd been through in his long life, Geralt had never felt this nervous, but as the doors at the end of the hall opened, his eyes caught Ciri for a split second, before recognizing Luna, her hair done up, and her dress, she left him breathless. He felt the way he'd felt the first time he really saw her, back at the Manor's stables as she stroked Roach's head, but this moment was so much more powerful to the Witcher, and forever would be.

Luna walked down the hall to Geralt, both of them glued to each other, like they were the only ones in the hall, Jaskier playing and softly singing the song he'd written for them. She was glad she reached Geralt when she did, because her knees were just about to go weak on her. But, the moment his hand gripped hers, she felt the strength in her knees grow and her worry flit away.

“You look so beautiful.” Geralt told him, taking her all in. “Absolutely stunning.” he smiled, watching her blush madly. He reached out and ran his hand down the length of the single side braid, he knew what it meant, and it left a warm feeling in his chest.

“Shall we?” Queen Meve asked, smiling at the two lovebirds, she'd grown to like them a great deal. “Excellent.” She continued, as Luna and Geralt nodded their heads, not taking their eyes off each other. 

Queen Meve pulled out a sash of gold, black and red, wrapping it around Luna and Geralt's clasped hands. “With this, I bind thee to each other.” She said, clasping her hand over the sash and their hands. “Geralt of Rivia, do you wish to be bound to the remarkable woman?” she asked him, looking him in the eyes.

“I do, with my body, soul and life.” Geralt said, glancing back to Luna as he said it. “And I have this,” he added, going into his pocket, and pulled out the object Jaskier had seen earlier. It was a silver ring, with a black center, and etched in the black was a form of the Yrden sign, meant to protect the person bearing it from anything deemed hostile or harmful, and with the silver in it, anything weak to the metal would be harmed and weakened by it, if Luna was to touch them. Luna smiled at Geralt as he slipped it onto her finger. She still wore his Wolf medallion, she'd never taken it off, since he put it around her neck.

“Luna of Rivia, do you wish to be bound to this powerful man.” Meve asked Luna, after Geralt put the ring on her finger, holding her eyes for a moment.

“I do, with my body, soul and life.” Luna replied, smiling at Geralt and squeezing his hand, a burst of excitement washing over her as she said it.

“Then, as Queen of Lyria and Rivia, I do bind thee both to each other, for all time.” Queen Meve answered, making the marriage official. 

Yennefer, Jaskier and Ciri both clapped, as did the Queen, as Luna and Geralt leaned towards each other, and kissed, sealing themselves. Luna gasped, suddenly, as the kiss broke, her hands started to shake and her breathing came in heavy labored pants. Everyone stared at her, concerned, but Geralt even more so, as he watched her, feeling her hand tremble in his.

“Luna?” he whispered, grasping her hand tightly in his.

Luna's eyes widened, turning black as the chaotic magic inside her mounted, making her feel like a overfilled water skin, she was warm and cold in turns, before the blackness of her eyes disappeared and her blue eyes glowed a bight, metallic and iridescent blue, unnatural to her normal eye color. Her head dropped back and she started whispering a chant that filled the room as if she as yelling it, Yennefer took a step closer to her, while everyone, but Geralt, moved away from her.

“Geralt, what's going on?” She asked, eyes fixed on Luna.

“I don't know.” He answered, watching Luna.

She gasped again, squeezing Geralt's hand with unusual strength, and he noticed black lines appearing on her smooth skin, runes etchings and signs he's never seen before, but some were easily recognized, like the Aard symbol mixing in with them, as it snaked up her left arm, spiraled around her shoulder before stopping, but from where she stood, Yennefer could see runes appearing down the length of Luna's spine. The chanting stopped abruptly, Luna's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she, would have dropped like a rock, if Geralt's reflexes didn't quickly catch her in his arms, kneeling down as he held her body against his and her head in the nook of his elbow.

“What's happened to her?” Ciri fretted, Jaskier wrapping an arm around her shoulders, as they all stared down at Luna's limp body.

“I have no fucking idea.” Geralt rasped, brushing her hair out her face, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“The Destiny?” Yennefer whispered, blinking at them.

“We already fulfilled that, a year ago!” Geralt snapped.

“You said that your and Luna's destiny was when you both wed,” Yennefer said, looking at him. “You made love, that's only part of officiating a marriage, she may have only gotten half of the magic the Destiny foretold.” she explained, making sense of it. “Now, that you both are officially wed, she may now have obtained the rest of them. Look at the markings, Geralt, everything a powerful Mage needs and runes, not even I've seen, have etched themselves into her skin. That's the only thing it could be.”

Geralt looked up at Yennefer, realizing she had to be right, it was the only thing that did make sense. Sighing, Geralt picked Luna up into his arms and took her back to their room. He laid her down on their bed, resting her head in his lap, and shedding his coat. Geralt looked down at her, at a loss, neither of them had expected this. He sure didn't know how to handle it, either. He traced the runes circling her shoulder, feeling the slight rise of their lines, he could identify a few of them, but the others were entirely foreign. Luna took a deep breath, startling Geralt, as she shot up and out of bed, pressing her back to the wall.

“Luna, it's alright.” he called to her, holding a hand out, blinking as he noticed her eyes were still that odd bright metallic blue.

She looked down at her arm, rubbing at it, as it made her skin itch. “What the fuck happened, Geralt?” she panicked, looking back at him.

He opened his mouth, but shut it again, he didn't know, so he had no idea how to explain it to her. Seeing his expression only made her panic more, she pushed herself off the wall and at the mirror in the room, letting out a shaky breath seeing the marks on her skin and the change in her eyes. She felt different as well, she felt calmer than she had ever, the magic inside of her always made her feel like she was about to explode at any moment, always on edge and frigidity, on the inside. She felt none of that now, she felt in control, calm and still. The color of her eyes also startled her. Looking around she found the ewer of water, picking it up and poured it into a bowl on the dresser.

“Luna, what are you doing?” Geralt frowned at her.

Luna hovered her hand over the bowl of water, focused and watched with surprise as the water lifted out of the bowl and an inch from her palm, in a wobbly orb. She slowly turned her hand palm up, the water orb moving with it and with a flick of her fingers, sent the water orb toward the fire place and quenching the fire in it. Geralt's eyes grew wide at the sight, but gulped as she held out her hand to it, one of the runes on her spine glowed and orb of fire shot out from the palm of her hand, relighting the fire. Her fingers half curled towards her palm, and Geralt watched the air shimmer between them. Turning her head, she looked to Geralt and blinked at him.

“ _Can you hear me_?” she asked, but her lips never moved, he'd heard it in his mind.

“Fuck.” Geralt snapped, stunned. “You can do Telepathy..” he paused, suddenly feeling the calm she had inside of her, stilling the fear and concern he had over the situation.

“Telempathy, as well.” Luna said, calmly. “Seems we were wrong back at the Manor, Geralt.”

“You only obtained _some_ of your power.” He whispered, the calm she shared with him, still there.

“So, this is my true power, and I can do so much more, Geralt.” She told him, in an even voice. “I can feel it; all the knowledge, all those spells and signs, I can feel them at the tips of my fingers, ready to come out, when I want them too.”

“But, to what end?” Geralt asked, feeling the worry coming back to him as she stop sharing her emotions. 

“Geralt,” Luna smiled. “It's changed what I can _do_. It's not changed _who_ I am.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, stepping closer to her.

Luna smiled more, looking up at him. “Geralt of Rivia, there's only been two things in my life, I've been sure of.” she told him. “The power I know fully have not changing the person I am.”

“And the other?” he asked, resting his hand on her tattooed arm.

“Being with you, my Husband.” She whispered, standing on tip-toe to kiss him on the lips.

“As long as you are sure, my Wife.” Geralt smiled against her lips, feeling the flicker of her emotions as she opened herself up to him again, letting him feel how sure she was, how happy she was. “Then, I am content.”

“Then, I am content, as well.” Luna smiled, kissing him again.


End file.
